Chapter 196. Profoundness of Art
Back at the camp, a heavy silence loomed like a suffocating fog. The once lively, cheerful atmosphere had been reduced to cold stillness. The distant crackling of the fire, the soft rustling of leaves—it all felt hauntingly loud in contrast to the silence between the people.
The cause of it all?
Cassius.
He had broken Verena’s wrist with mechanical calm, and Miss Celia’s outburst afterwards had only worsened the suffocating weight over the group. It didn’t feel real at first. But now, hours later, the truth had set in.
It had happened.
Right now, Mia sat beside Verena on a crude bench made from stone and earth—likely conjured by one of the earth element users earlier in the day. Her arms were folded, and her brows were tightly furrowed. Her lips were slightly pursed, pressed in thought, in confusion...
Verena, sitting next to her with her wrist now healed, didn’t speak either. Her usual fire was dulled. There was no sign of her usual pride, no flaring temper or sarcastic smirk. Her hand throbbed, yes—but it wasn’t the pain that made her fingers tremble.
No. It was something else entirely.
She couldn’t explain it—why she kept recalling that moment over and over. His hand grabbing hers, his cold gaze piercing through her, the complete lack of hesitation as he snapped her wrist with practiced ease.
It wasn’t the pain that terrified her.
It was him.
His face was... disturbingly calm. Not blank like someone restraining anger. No, he had nothing on his face—like a doll programmed to execute a task. She’d seen cold people before. But this...