The battlefield, once a storm of chaos and power, had fallen into eerie silence. The wind howled through the scorched land, carrying with it the heavy weight of everything that had transpired. Vinay knelt on the ground, his body trembling, his golden aura flickering weakly around him. His hands were still dug into the dirt, his tears mixing with the blood staining the battlefield.
Then—**a sharp pain pierced his back.**
His body jolted forward, his breath caught in his throat. A dagger—**cold and unforgiving—had been driven deep into him.**
His vision blurred, his body frozen.
And then, a voice.
**"I never imagined I would see you like this, Vinay."**
A voice he knew.
A voice that had once been **loyal.**
Slowly, painfully, Vinay turned his head.
Standing behind him, gripping the dagger, was **Garin.**
His butler.
His most trusted servant.
His **family.**
Vinay's lips trembled. His voice came out weak, barely a whisper.
**"Garin…?"**
But there was no warmth in Garin's eyes. **Only cold resolve.**
His grip on the dagger tightened.
**"It's been so long since you called my name with anything other than disgust."**
Blood dripped from the dagger as Garin pulled it out. Vinay gasped, coughing violently, blood splattering onto the ground beneath him.
Yet—he did not fall.
Not yet.
Instead, he forced himself to look at Garin.
And for the first time in years—**he saw something he had never noticed before.**
**Hatred.**
And **pain
**Decades ago…**
Before Garin was Vinay's butler, before he served with unwavering loyalty, **he was a noble.**
A proud, young heir of the **Feywood Family**, a house of wisdom, strategy, and honor.
His father was a diplomat.
His mother, a scholar.
His life was peaceful.
Until the **day Vinay came.**
Vinay, young and reckless, a prince of power, came to the Feywood estate seeking alliances. He was not yet the ruler he would become, but even then, his ambitions burned brighter than the stars.
**"Join me,"** Vinay had said. **"Lend me your family's wisdom, and I will take you beyond the limits of nobility. I will make you legends."**
Garin's father had refused.
They were **not warriors.**
They did **not seek conquest.**
Vinay had smiled. He had **nodded.**
And then—**he returned with fire.**
That night, Vinay's forces stormed the Feywood estate.
They burned the libraries.
They slaughtered the scholars.
Garin watched as his mother was **cut down.**
He heard his father's last words as Vinay's men **struck him down.**
**"Garin… run."**
But he didn't run.
He fought.
And he lost.
**He was thrown into chains.**
A noble's son—reduced to nothing.
And then—**Vinay spared him.**
**"You will serve me now,"** Vinay had said, looking down at him. **"Your knowledge will be useful."**
And so, Garin was taken in as a servant.
Forced to bow.
Forced to obey.
For years, he swallowed his hatred, playing the role of the **loyal butler.**
Waiting.
Watching.
Until finally—**his moment arrived.
Vinay clutched his bleeding side, gasping.
His golden aura flickered weakly, struggling to stay alive.
But **Garin did not stop.**
He **grabbed Vinay's neck pulling him close, his voice shaking with years of repressed rage.
**"Do you remember my family, Vinay?!"** Garin's voice cracked. **"Do you remember what you did to the Feywood name?!"**
Vinay's eyes widened.
Memories flashed.
A burning estate.
A boy in chains.
And yet—he had forgotten.
He had **forgotten Garin's suffering.**
Vinay's lips parted. He tried to speak.
But Garin wasn't done.
**"You took everything from me,"** he whispered, his voice trembling. **"You reduced me to a servant. You made me kneel before you. You forced me to smile and call you 'master.'"**
Garin gritted his teeth. **Tears filled his eyes.**
**"And I smiled."**
His hands shook as he lifted the dagger once more.
**"I waited. I waited for the day I could look into your eyes and finally say—"**
The dagger plunged forward—
**But this time, Vinay caught it.**
Garin's eyes widened.
Vinay, **despite his wounds**, held the dagger firmly, his fingers trembling with effort.
Then—he laughed.
A broken, **mad laugh.**
A laugh that **echoed through the heavens.**
Garin struggled, but Vinay **overpowered him.**
**"You think you can kill me?"** Vinay's voice was hoarse. **"You think you can erase what I've done?"**
He twisted Garin's wrist—**breaking it with a sickening snap.**
Garin let out a scream, but before he could react—**Vinay grabbed his throat.**
Blood still dripped from his wounds.
His vision swayed.
Yet—**he didn't stop.**
With one last burst of strength—**he crushed Garin's windpipe.**
Garin's body fell limp.
His eyes—once filled with hatred—dimmed.
And just like that—**it was over.
Vinay stood over Garin's lifeless body.
His entire frame trembled.
Then—he laughed again.
A twisted, bitter laugh.
The sky rumbled.
Clouds gathered.
And then—**it rained.**
Heavy, cold rain.
It **washed the blood from his hands.**
It **drenched his hair, his face, his wounds.**
Yet—he laughed **through it all.**
A man who had lost everything.
A man who had killed his most trusted servant.
A man who had been betrayed by the very one he trusted.
Ryan Jim watched.
For the first time—**he felt something.**
Mercy.
Pity.
Vinay continued to laugh, even as **tears mixed with the rain.**
He had gone **mad.**
Completely.
Utterly.
Mad.