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The red wings that spread behind Noah were a sharp contrast to the cold, starry night, glowing faintly with a dark, unnatural light.

In the silence, Rylan\'s thoughts began to spiral.

Memories from a life he had tried to leave behind came rushing back, one after another.

He remembered the halls of the Voss estate—cold, vast, and filled with the sound of clashing swords.

His brothers were always training, always pushing themselves harder, stronger, faster.

And he was right there with them, though never quite enough in their eyes.

"You\'re weak," Grant, his eldest brother, had spat at him once.

"Power in this world isn\'t given to you. It has to be taken."

Rylan had heard those words so many times, they had almost lost their meaning.

Almost.

And yet, lying here, defeated, Noah\'s overwhelming strength on full display, those words stung him more than ever.

Had his brothers been right?

Had his entire belief in moral strength and hard work been wrong?

His father\'s image flashed in his mind—cold and indifferent, always watching, always distant.

The man had never once shown approval, never once given Rylan a nod of recognition, no matter how hard he trained.

His father only acknowledged results, and to him, Rylan had always been a disappointment.

"Power must be taken," his father had said once, the words ringing through Rylan\'s mind like a bell.

"Those who hesitate are left behind, passed by those hungry for it."

Rylan had hated those words.

He had hated the idea that power was something to be stolen, something to be seized without regard for anything else.

But now, here he was, broken and bleeding, his body barely able to move.

And Noah, the one who should have been his ally, his peer, had tapped into something far darker and more powerful than Rylan could ever have imagined.

The demonic energy that surrounded Noah was suffocating, oppressive.

It was a power that Rylan could never hope to match—not with his own strength, not with his own ideals.

"Was I wrong?"

Rylan whispered to himself, barely able to hear his own voice over the ringing in his ears.

"Have I been a fool this whole time?"

He thought of his mother.

Her gentle face, her soft smile, her words of encouragement.

"Hard work pays," she had always told him.

"Talent and hard work, together, are unstoppable.

But never compromise your values, Rylan...

There are things more important than power..."

Those words had been his guiding light for as long as he could remember.

But now, as he lay on the ground, beaten and broken, he couldn\'t help but wonder if she had been wrong.

"Power must be taken," his brothers had always said.

He remembered the day Grant had been given the ring—the Voss family ring, the symbol of their power.

It had glowed with a faint, eerie light, amplifying Grant\'s abilities tenfold.

Rylan had watched as his brothers recieved the same magical items and became unstoppable, wielding power that Rylan could only dream of.

But the power came with a cost.

The rings were cursed, their power drawn from the demon constellation, a forbidden force that corrupted the soul.

Rylan had rejected the ring when it had been offered to him, swearing to his mother\'s memory that he would never use such tainted power.

But now, lying here, feeling the life drain from him, he couldn\'t help but wonder if he had made the wrong choice.

"Maybe they were right," Rylan thought bitterly, his vision growing darker.

"Maybe power is all that matters in this world.

And maybe...

I\'ve wasted my life chasing an impossible dream."

He thought back to all the times his brothers had mocked him, their words cutting deeper than any sword ever could.

"You\'re so incompetent and foolish," Erik, his second-eldest brother, had once said, his voice dripping with disdain.

"This world doesn\'t care about your morals.

Power is the only thing that matters.

And you? You\'ll never have it by taking that path...everyone knows that\'s how the world works."

Rylan had tried to ignore them, had tried to prove them wrong through sheer determination and effort.

But no matter how hard he worked, it had never been enough.

His brothers had always been stronger, faster, more ruthless.

And now, looking up at Noah, Rylan couldn\'t shake the feeling that maybe they had been right all along.

He had followed the path of morality, of hard work and honor, but where had it gotten him?

Lying on the floor, barely able to breathe, staring up at a former ally who had tapped into a power that Rylan had sworn never to use.

"Maybe I was wrong," Rylan whispered, his voice cracking.

"Maybe...mother was wrong."

The thought was like a dagger to his heart.

His mother had been the only one who had ever believed in him, the only one who had ever told him that there was another way.

But now, as he lay on the ground, watching Noah\'s demonic aura swirl around him like a storm, Rylan couldn\'t help but feel that everything she had taught him had been a lie.

The Voss family had thrived on power, on strength, on taking what they wanted without hesitation.

His brothers had embraced the darkness, had used the cursed rings to make themselves stronger.

And what had Rylan done?

He had clung to his morals, to his mother\'s ideals, believing that hard work and talent were enough.

But maybe they weren\'t.

Rylan\'s thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice calling his name.

"Rylan... Rylan, are you okay?"

He blinked, his vision clearing slightly as he turned his head to the side.

Ariana was kneeling beside him, her eyes filled with concern as she pulled out the icicles embedded in Rylan\'s body.

Rylan nodded, though he knew it was a lie.

His body ached as each icicle was pulled out, his head was spinning, and he could barely breathe.

But he forced himself to sit up, his gaze shifting back to Noah.

He didn\'t want to believe what he was seeing.

Noah, the Blessed Sage, had become a demonic disciple.

The power that radiated from him was dark, twisted, and far beyond anything Rylan could comprehend.