The magic field created by the man dressed in black was mercilessly devastated, like a house of cards yielding to the gust of a stormy wind. Standing, he cast a look of anger mixed with fearful respect towards Lyon, who lay on the ground. Lyon's ability, which was now burning his long-time friend, was something he had never witnessed before. Restless, the man in black considered intervening, but the instinct for self-preservation kept him at a distance. After all, even if Lucio was a known companion since teenage times, the idea of an agonizing death kept him from approaching.

"Ahhhhhh! Help!" Lucio's desperate screams pierced the air, echoing amidst the chaos. He was staring fixedly at the great demon he believed he saw before him, a terrifying vision that only he could see.

Attempting to escape, Lucio staggered, but the fire consuming him acted like a relentless executioner. It had already destroyed much of his legs, burning flesh and muscles down to the bones. It was testament to his willpower and desperation that he could still remain standing. The flames danced on his body, illuminating the darkness around him and casting grotesque shadows that seemed to revel in his suffering.

Each scream torn from the depths of his soul resonated like a cruel reminder of reality: Lucio was being devoured alive, and all his old friend could do was watch helplessly at his agony.

[YOUR STATS HAVE RETURNED TO NORMAL]

Meanwhile, Lyon was wrestling with his own torment. "No... I'm going to die..." he murmured, blood gushing from a deep cut in his chest. With great effort, he managed to remove the blazer he wore as part of his employee uniform. Every movement seemed to increase the pain and bleeding, but he knew he needed to staunch the flow. Holding one end of the blazer in each hand, he pressed with all his might, forcing the fabric against the wound. A moan of pain escaped his lips from the grip he had on his chest, but it was a necessary evil. After all, it was better to endure the pain than to bleed to death.

"Lucio..." The voice of the man in black came through, punctuated by a tone of lament and despair, upon pronouncing the name of his companion. Lucio's figure lay stretched out on the ground, his body already almost unrecognizable, charred by the wild flame that had consumed him. The flame that once danced around him, as if delighting in his torture, now seemed to have exhausted its fuel source. It disappeared, faded into the air like an illusory vision, as if it had never been there, leaving only the cold reality of Lucio's burned body.

"I'm sorry..." The man in black murmured, his voice heavy with guilt and powerlessness. He had not been able to help, he had not intervened. His gaze fell on the empty pouch that once contained a healing potion, now uselessly empty. There was nothing that could bring Lucio back now, not even the most powerful cures he knew. Additionally, the memory of the burning flame that consumed Lucio caused a shiver to run down his spine. He wasn't sure if he could approach that uncontrollable fire, afraid that the same fate could befall him.

The man in black felt a wave of self-reproach wash over him. He had chosen to preserve his own life instead of risking it to save his friend.

"You'll pay for what you've done!" The voice of the man in black reverberated with intensity, his tone laden with a deep and boiling rage. His eyes, vivid like burning coals, fixed on Lyon, who lay defenseless on the ground.

"Orbs of darkness!" He called out, and with his declaration, three spheres as black as the deepest night emerged behind him. They vibrated with a dark energy, a fearsome power that seemed to tear the air around, distorting light and shadows.

As if responding to their master's veiled command, the orbs lunged towards Lyon. Each one zigzagged its course, leaving a trail of darkness where it passed, creating a scenario of threat and despair.

"Shit!" Lyon's thought was followed by an immediate action. He clenched his teeth with such force it seemed like they could break. Pressing his hand against the warm ground, he felt the muscles in his arm and back contract in response to the pain and effort.

With his other arm serving as support, Lyon used all the strength he could muster in his legs to propel him forward. Despite the stabbing pain emanating from his chest wound, he moved. The effort caused the wound to tear even more, a brutal reminder of his precarious condition.

"Ahhh!" Lyon's scream echoed through the air, an exclamation of pain. He fell heavily onto the ground, but upon looking over his shoulder, he saw that his desperate maneuver had worked. He had escaped the orbs of darkness.

The spheres impacted the ground where Lyon had lain moments before. With a deafening boom, they exploded, turning the earth below into a desolate black void. The darkness permeated the ground, as if the very earth was stained by the darkness of the orbs. It was a frightening sight, a vivid reminder of the destructive power of the man in black and the danger Lyon was facing.

"Why did you dodge?" The man dressed in black questioned, his voice sounding more like a hoarse whisper than an accusation. He tilted his head, his eyes fixing on the ground beneath him, as if he were caught in a tangle of tortuous and anguishing thoughts. "You took the life of a man, a family man. Without him, his wife and daughter run the risk of dying. Does that not cause you even a shred of remorse?"

The question floated in the tension-laden air, like a silent judgment. There was a bitter irony in this, an accuser who attempted to kill his accused speaking of death and remorse.

"What are you talking about?" Lyon retorted, the indifference in his voice seeming merely a mask hiding the pain and shock. He averted his gaze from the charred corpse of Lucius, as if the sight of the result of his desperate defense was unbearable. "Was it not you who tried to kill me? Then why complain about him having died?"

There was something disturbing about his indifference, a detachment that did not fit the gravity of the situation. Perhaps it was the piercing pain in his chest, or perhaps it was the only way he found to process what had happened - ignoring that he had been the harbinger of Lucius's death.

"Because of you, I will have to explain to his wife." The voice of the man in black sounded bitter, filled with a resentment that seemed to eat away at his soul. He refused to see himself as part of the problem, for him, everything was Lyon's fault. If Lyon hadn't taken that plant, they wouldn't have pursued him. If Lyon hadn't fought, they wouldn't have clashed, and Lucius wouldn't have died. Everything, absolutely everything, was Lyon's fault!

"Why don't you make a more direct decision?" A feminine voice, calm and controlled, resonated in the tense air. "Bring the head of the murderer to the poor Lucius's wife. Let her unload the accumulated fury on the one who brought so much pain. If it will make her feel better, take the whole body; a physical vengeance has its value."

The words, so cold and calculating, made Lyon and the man in black widen their eyes in surprise. In unison, their glances turned to the source of the sound. A female figure was there, sitting in the air as if she were on an invisible throne.

She boasted a sky-blue hair that fell gently over her shoulders, contrasting with the fair skin that had a rosy hue, an indication of her exposure to the sun. The black dress she wore seemed to hug her body, a malleable fabric that accentuated her curves. The neckline of the dress deepened, revealing a pair of voluptuous breasts, the size of a basketball, that swayed slightly with the slightest of her movements.

Her crossed legs gave a casual air, as if she were comfortable despite the chaos unfolding around her. Her eyes, intense and inscrutable, were fixed on Lyon and the man in black, as if she were assessing the development of the events with a peculiar interest.

"Who are you?" The voice of the man in black was laden with discomfort and apprehension. The fear in his eyes was undeniable. The possibility that this woman, who radiated a crushing pressure, could be a guard from the city of Green Waters haunted him. Although it seemed unlikely, there was still a chance it could be true. He and Lucius had committed several crimes in that city, and they had always been lucky to escape unpunished. But if this woman really was a guard, he knew that death would be a far more welcoming fate than what awaited him.

On the other hand, Lyon, bloodied and lying on the ground, looked at the strange woman with a mix of fear and hope. "Help me, please." He implored, his voice barely more than a whisper. To him, the presence of this woman was a potential beacon of salvation amidst the darkness.

Lyon's chest throbbed with a piercing pain, the open wound constantly reminding him of the precariousness of his situation. He didn't have the energy or time to worry whether this mysterious woman was on the side of the man in black, or whether she was even willing to help. All he could think of was that she, with her intense and powerful aura, was his only chance of survival.

"Alright, I'll help." The woman said, letting an enigmatic smile dance on her lips. Her voice had a melodic and engaging touch, but the promise of help wasn't free. "However, tell me when you plan to reward me for this." She asked, her question hanging in the air like a dagger. She wasn't an angel of mercy, willing to help without asking for anything in return. Her help had a price.

Lyon couldn't hide his surprise. He was stunned, his eyes wide and his mouth open in a perfect 'O' of shock. He wasn't expecting this twist. The offer of help was a light at the end of the tunnel, but the demand for payment threatened to extinguish that light before he could even reach it.

The man dressed in black, on the other hand, let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief. The woman's statement indicated that she wasn't there to protect Lyon, which was a good sign. As for the payment, he wasn't worried. He cast an evaluative glance at Lyon, his servant's clothes showed that he wasn't a rich man.

The man in black doubted that Lyon had enough resources to satisfy the demands of the mysterious woman. He felt secure, he thought, watching the expressions of shock and desperation on Lyon's face. Perhaps

 the presence of this woman was not a threat, but an opportunity.