"Wait—!"

Max’s fist stopped just inches away from Agnia’s face. He was ready to forsake the Fire Dragon bloodline. The rage in his heart burned hotter than his desire for power. Yet in that final moment, it was Agnia who broke first.

She looked into his feral eyes and felt her whole body go cold. He stared down at her as if she were nothing but prey already caught in his claws. Something twisted inside her. The way he dominated her, the way death hung so casually in his hand, made her blood surge in a way that filled her with instant shame.

Max heaved heavily, barely holding himself back.

"I submit..." Agnia forced the words out, making Max narrow his eyes at her in suspicion. "I admit my defeat. Whatever you want to do with me, I will accept it... just don’t kill me..." Her voice trembled at the end, her eyes pleading for mercy, and that pathetic look only made Max feel even more disgusted with her.

"Do you really think I need you?" His smile fell into something terrifying, his eyes darkening with naked killing intent. In that instant, Agnia felt a shiver tear through her body, as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head. The way he looked at her now was worse than hatred. It was contempt.

"My people would rather die than listen to anyone else. We are proud—" Agnia tried to force some dignity back into her voice, but the words came out hollow, rotten even to her own ears.

Rosalia laughed from the side.

"Look at yourself," she said coldly as she walked closer. "Growling like a dog for him while still talking about pride and nobility. Aren’t you only humiliating yourself more?" She stopped beside Max and gently placed her hand over his fist.

Agnia’s face twisted with bitterness. She knew Rosalia was right. She had been the first to bend, the first to offer herself up just to stay alive, so why would her people not do the same the moment fear wrapped around their throats?

"But at the same time, she’s right." Rosalia gently pulled Max aside, her fingers brushing over his shoulder and arm. "With her alive, we can control the people more easily."

"So what?" Max let out a bitter laugh. "What exactly can we do now?" He could feel the pressure on his shoulders crushing him like a mountain. He was only one man, and the army marching toward him was so vast and powerful that even he could not find the confidence to face it at his current strength.

Agnia saw the worry in the most terrifying man she had ever met, and that frightened her more than his rage. Only Rosalia and the coming army could force that expression onto his face. The numbers she had seen in the reports earlier had made even her blood run cold.

"My people will fight for you. I can arrange the defenses, we—"

"Shut your trap..." Max growled furiously.

He took a step back, abandoning the urge to kill her now that a sliver of reason had forced its way through his anger.

"Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. I need a moment to think..." Max stepped away from them and disappeared into the halls.

Each footstep echoed through the ruined castle, heavy and hollow, carrying the weight crushing down on his shoulders. The silence around him only made it worse. Broken stone, blackened walls, and the lingering scent of burnt mana followed him like ghosts from the battle. Yet at the same time, that empty stretch of hall gave him room to think.

He tried to remember human history, the rise and fall of empires, the way some kingdoms had endured for thousands of years even when they had been hopelessly outnumbered. They had not survived through honor alone. They had endured through blood, fear, lies, sacrifice, and the willingness to turn people into pieces on a board.

He weighed his chances, one against four hundred thousand, imagining how many he could kill before his mana finally ran dry. A bitter laugh slipped from his lips. He possessed an absurd amount of mana, yet his enemies were always either overwhelming him with power or drowning him in numbers, forcing him to drain himself completely just to survive.

For the first time since coming to this world, Max no longer found himself wondering how to win cleanly. He was beginning to ask a far darker question.

What was he willing to do to win at all?

"Wait..." He stopped, a wild idea rising in his head. Depleting. That was the word he needed right now. He turned at once and paced back toward Rosalia and Agnia. The moment he entered, a cold chill ran through both of their bodies. His smile was too wicked. The way he looked at Agnia now was as if he were staring at a treasure he had only just realized the value of.

"Get up. I need you to gather your people immediately, all of them." Max’s words struck her like a hammer. She didn’t understand what had suddenly gotten into him, but she had no choice except to submit to his demand.

Black mist rushed from his fingers like two vipers, swallowing the ice shackles Rosalia had placed on her. "We have no time to waste." He didn’t wait for her to recover. Stepping forward, he grabbed her by the arm and forced her numb legs to stand against their will. Agnia groaned with every step, her eyes filled with hate, yet beneath it lingered a twisted sense of satisfaction she could barely suppress, only making her heart split in two.

Rosalia followed close behind as they walked toward the hole in the wall. She looked at him with curiosity.

"Did you come up with a plan?" she asked, stopping just before the edge and looking out over the broken land with the two of them.

"Not only did I come up with a plan, but it’s so stupid and wild that it might actually work and buy us enough time to grow stronger."