"Have you come to see how many of us are left to sacrifice?"
The ten-year-old body before me asked, standing tall despite everything. His fists were clenched tight beside his thighs, knuckles white. His gaze didn't waver as he looked at my golden eyes with his crimson ones.
His expression didn't contain even a single ounce of anger. It was just... empty. Hollow.
"The answer is sixteen," he added, his voice flat.
I looked down at him and snorted. "Aren't you supposed to be a generational prodigy?" I asked.
"How could you mess up such a simple calculation?"
I walked toward him slowly, watching his expressionless face carefully.
"The answer is seventeen," I said, stopping in front of him. "You forgot to add Sera."
His crimson eyes suddenly gleamed golden. The shelves around us shook violently, books tumbling to the floor with heavy thuds.
Light attribute mana.
A ten-year-old. Already using mana.
