He was feeling anger, regret and fear, as well as a strong sense of foreboding. In his eyes, the wolf seemed to grow even more, and his hands turned light. He looked down, and saw that Windhowler had disappeared.

His fingers had turned shorter, and his hands had turned smaller. It was not the wolf that had grown; it was he that had returned to the way he was on that horrible day.

A powerless, weak being that brought trouble for everyone around him.

His lack of talent made his father give up on him and his family.

His powerlessness and stubbornness condemned his mother to a crippled life, one that even after finding Lya he never managed to improve a single bit.

Amon's face paled as he realized what was about to happen.

"No!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. His face paled and all of his others emotions were swept away by pure fright.

"Stop this! NOW!" He screamed again, his voice high-pitched and juvenile as he pleaded desperately. Suddenly, he heard hurried footsteps on his left, and his face pale even further.

From the mist, she appeared. Donning stunningly red clothes, contrasted by her flowing golden hair and those fiery green eyes. She stood tall, beautiful and full of pride as she rushed in Amon's direction. She had a sleek sword in her hand, as white as the clouds in the sky, and suffusing even whiter flames, so hot that Amon could feel the heat it emitted from dozens of meters away.

When he saw her delicate face, her deeply worried expression and her gracious and hurried steps in his direction, Amon's heart broke. He lost the last shreds of reason he had on him, and was overtaken by pure emotions. He did not want to live this again, no matter what. He would dearly use his life to stop what was about to happen if he had a chance to stop it.

He gritted his teeth, looking at the Silverback wolf with a furious light s.h.i.+ning in his golden eyes. Amon shouted as he threw himself at the beast. His ashen hair whipped again the wind as he traversed the air, and combining it with his savage expression and desperate shout made him look more like an animal than a human.

The wolf looked at his direction uninterested, as if it could not see Amon at all. Just like that, Amon reached the wolf. The only way to save his mother was to remove himself from the battle that was about to happen. He would never be able to outrun the wolf, nor would his mother be able to do so holding him.

That being the case, the only option he found was throwing himself to the wolf. This would surely break his mother's heart, but for Amon it would be better than being crippled. She would eventually move on, become a High Elder, and maybe start a new family. One with which she could be truly happy.

It was all his fault. Deep down, Amon knew it. He was better off dying right at this moment.

He closed his eyes as he approached the Silverback Wolf's open jaw, and those dagger-like fangs approached his face. He was ready to feel the piercing pain that would put his suffering to an end, and then… he fell on the ground.

He heard a roar behind him, and he turned back with a confused expression. His mother had her back facing the place where he had been standing, holding the sword with one hand and extending the other one behind her, as if pus.h.i.+ng back someone that was not there.

Amon rushed to the wolf again, trying to punch it and draw its attention. As if Amon was. .h.i.tting nothing but the mist surrounding him, his hands went through the wolf, as if it was made by nothing but air. His confusion gave way to despair as he realized he could not do a thing.

"Please stop!" He asked again, almost giving up hope.

The young Rebecca's movements were fluid and precise, but they were limited to a circle around the place Amon had been. Rebecca only moved to defend, not to attack.

The world flashed as wisps of white flame covered Rebecca's surroundings, trying to keep the Silverback Wolf at bay. It, however, was useless. The flames that Rebecca conjured were not strong enough to hurt the wolf, as they would also have hurt Amon otherwise.

It was a drawn-out battle. Rebecca had crushed a jade token as soon as it started, but no one appeared in her rescue. She fought alone against a spirit beast that was close to her in strength, all while defending a child.

The simple fact that she managed to hold on for so long was proof of her proficiency as a cultivator and a warrior. Nevertheless, help did not arrive on time, and the end became inevitable.

Large beads of sweat glistened in Rebecca's hair and face for but a moment before evaporating due to the heat. Her breath was rough and her limbs were trembling. The area surrounding her and Amon was no more than a wasteland by now, with everything in a radius of a hundred meters charred into unrecognizable chunks or turned into grey ash that floated in the air like snow.

The Silverback Wolf had parts of his fur charred, and his front paw had a deep gash in it, making him limp. Still, it never stopped its crazed attacks, making Rebecca even more cornered as her strength faded.

There was no way she would be able to win a fight of attrition with a spirit beast while protecting someone. The sword in her hands trembled and the flames started fading as Rebecca started running out of Qi.

With an expression full of savagery and unwillingness, she slashed with her sword once more, sending a burst of raging flames in front of her. This time, she not hold back at all. She focused all of her power in this strike, focusing and condensing her flames to the extreme.

It was a strike filled with hostility. A desperate intent to kill its target. A strike that world burn the world and leave nothing more than cinders if it was necessary to kill the enemy in front of it.

As soon as the strike was unleashed, Rebecca fell to her knees. She had been stalling for help that never came. All she could do was give her all and turn defenseless in a desperate attempt to kill the wolf.

The wolf whined painfully as the strike hit it, opening a deep wound in its flank before charring it into a mess of burnt flesh and fur. The wolf's beautiful silver fur was tainted black, and it was surely a grave injury.

However, it was not enough.

It growled again, limping even more emphatically than before. Seeing this, Rebecca's already pale face turned deathly white. She somehow managed to stand up, supporting her weight on the sword that was stuck on the ground.

Amon, that had been watching it powerlessly from the side, forced himself up again. His eyes were wide as he shouted and rushed to Rebecca. He managed to stand in front of her, facing the wolf. He opened his arms widely, trying to cover her whole body.

However, it was not enough. It was useless.

The wolf growled again, and jumped at the defenseless Rebecca, as if Amon had not been there at all. Amon felt a light wind hitting his body as the wolf pa.s.sed through him, as incorporeal as ever.

He closed his eyes tightly as tears streamed down his face. He fell to the ground, curling himself in a ball as he desperately tried to cover his ears.

However, it was not enough.

He still heard it. He heard the blood-curling scream his mother gave, he heard his own desperate screams, in the same juvenile voice he had that day. He heard the growling of the wolf, and he heard the horrifying sounds that came after.

"Crunch, crunch!"

It was the sound of bones breaking. The sound that the wolf made as it bit on legs, rupturing the flesh with its fangs, ripping muscles apart and grinding bones into powder.

"I'm sorry." Amon cried desperately as he refused to look at the scene.

However, it was not enough.

The memories he had somehow managed to repress all those years all came back, as painfully clear as possible. Memories he could not escape from. A weight he would forever carry with him, holding him back, slowing him down.

Amon did not know for how long he stood there, desperately trying to shut down his senses and hopefully pa.s.s out. Eventually, all sound had disappeared, but he could still hear it.

"Why…" Was all he could manage to say.

Why had this happened?

What had he done to deserve this?

What had his mother done for this?

Why did help took so long to come that day?

Amon knew the answer. He knew it very well. They were paying for the actions of someone else.

Suddenly, he heard steps again. Heavy, confident footsteps that seemed to echo through the mist as if it was an empty room.

Amon hesitantly opened his eyes. He saw a pair of black boots a few centimeters in front of him. He suddenly felt drowsy, and his body was aching miserably all over. He could not move at all, nor could he scream. Just like he had felt in his first Body Tempering. Just like he felt the night his black hair and eyes turned ashen and golden.

His expression was a mask of anger and pain as he managed to keep his eyes open and slightly raise his head.

What he saw was a pair of ravenous black eyes, as cold as a winter night. A hair darker than shadows reached the man's shoulders as he squatted down to look at Amon with a indifferent expression.

"Why?" He mustered all of his strength to utter the only question he had on his mind. The same question he asked that cold night. The answer he received was something that, deep down, he wanted to deny with all he had, even if he knew it was the truth.

Those eyes turned even more ruthless, even more cold as the man's expression remained surprisingly unchanged. The man slowly tilted his head down, approaching Amon.

"Because you are weak." Lloyd Kressler said to his son, before standing up again and leaving.

The black cloak that covered his body fluttered as he took unhurried steps outside, as if he was leaving an empty room rather than abandoning his son and his wife.

In truth, the room might as well have been empty, because that day Amon realized that he and his mother had stopped existing for that man.