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"Uncle," he said, his voice barely a whisper above the crackling flames, "I think Elio's family should be yours. For Marcus."

He didn't need to finish the thought. Estin's eyes gleamed with gratitude and thirst for vengeance. "Thank you, nephew," he responded, his voice hoarse with anticipation.

Kairos nodded and turned towards the street, where neighbors were beginning to emerge from their homes, drawn by the chaos and smoke. Without hesitation, he pointed his finger at a woman who was the closest.

His salamander fired, the fiery projectile striking the woman in the chest, eliciting a scream of agony. Kairos knew that with his 9 points of damage, he'd need a second attack to finish the job.

With her 10 points of resistance, the woman fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Kairos, unflinching, threw his lance, piercing the woman's heart and silencing her screams forever.

Around him, the massacre began in earnest. Mordred, Lotar, and Varen, each with 14 points of damage, moved through the terrified crowd like predators among their prey.

The men, with their 20 points of resistance, required two hits to fall. Occasionally, they encountered someone more resilient, likely a retired defender, who needed three hits to be taken down.

Screams of pain and terror filled the air, mingling with the smoke and the stench of burning flesh.

Estin, for his part, remained in front of the burning door of Elio's house, his eyes shining with an almost feverish anticipation.

Raelar observed the scene with horror, his stomach churning at the cruelty he witnessed. Each scream, each falling body, was like a dagger in his heart. He remained motionless, unable to participate but also unable to look away.

Fathoran noticed his inaction and approached, his presence like a cold, menacing shadow. "Raelar," he said, his voice soft, "is there a problem?"

Raelar swallowed hard, fighting against the bile rising in his throat. "Patriarch, this... This isn't right. They're innocent."

Fathoran's eyes narrowed dangerously. "There are no innocents in my city, only subjects," he replied. "I warn you, Raelar. There's no choice here. Either you participate, or I'll be forced to imprison you."

The threat hung in the air between them, heavy and ominous. Raelar felt his resolve wavering. Maybe, he told himself, if he participated now, he could do something later. Perhaps if he managed to surpass level 5...

Raelar raised his trembling hands high, pointing towards the panicking crowd that was trying to escape as far as they could. He closed his eyes, unable to look his potential victim in the face. If it was this far, he couldn't see who was hit.

But just as he was about to attack, a shrill cry cut through the air. Raelar's eyes snapped open, meeting the terrified gaze of a small child, faraway, where his attack would have landed.

It was too much. Something inside Raelar broke.

"No," Raelar said, pointing his hands at Fathoran. "I can't do this. I won't."

In an instant, his frog grew to the size of a large dog, its skin glowing with intense cold. With a fluid motion, it launched a water blade directly at Fathoran.

Fathoran: 550 - 9 = 50 Resistance / 491 Armor Resistance

The attack caught the Patriarch by surprise. The water impacted against his armor. Fathoran instinctively covered his face, grunting in frustration. But in the next moment, he extended his hand. The carbon took only an instant to form around Raelar.

At that precise moment, Lucien and Selene emerged from the shadows. Lucien launched an ice sphere into the sky and another to the front, while Selene fired a gust of wind towards the center of the group of Summoners.

The first two spheres, one of wind and one of ice, converged at the center of the Summoners' group. As they collided, they exploded into a storm of ice shards that scattered in all directions.

Varen and Lotar were far from the hit, Fathoran managed to cover himself in time, but the others received the full impact. Kairos, Estin, and Mordred screamed in pain as the sharp shards dug into their flesh. They haven't fully recovered from their last fight against Lucien, Selene and Raelar.

Mordred: 123 - 14 crit = 9 Resistance / 86 Armor Resistance

Estin: 123 - 14 crit = 9 / 86

Lotar: 123 = 23 / 100

Varen: 123 = 23 / 100

Kairos: 123 - 14 crit = 9 / 86

Before they could recover, a second explosion hit them. The ice sphere that had been launched into the sky moments before exploded when struck by a second gust of wind from Selene, sending another rain of icy projectiles down upon them.

The carbon prison imprisoning Raelar crumbled under the impact, freeing him.

Fathoran, recovering quickly, created another carbon shield to protect all his children on his side. The shards bounced harmlessly off the dark barrier.

Without losing a second, Lucien and Selene launched a coordinated assault against Fathoran.

Lucien created a series of ice attacks that flew towards the Patriarch, while Selene propelled them with gusts of cutting wind. The air whistled with the speed of the projectiles.

Fathoran, however, was not easily defeated. With a quick gesture, he created a series of carbon shields that intercepted the trajectory of the attacks. The ice crashed against the barriers, shattering into thousands of fragments.

As the battle intensified, Estin saw his opportunity. He wasn't going to be bothered. Taking advantage of the distraction, he slipped away towards Elio's house. With a sinister smile, he entered the dwelling, ready to quench his thirst for vengeance.

Fathoran, frustrated by the unexpected resistance, decided to change tactics. With a roar of fury, he extended both hands. The carbon flowed like a black river, quickly surrounding Lucien, Selene, and Raelar.

But the rebels wouldn't give up so easily. Lucien and Selene's frogs, growing to the size of large dogs, began to pound the carbon barriers.

"Raelar!" Lucien shouted, his voice barely audible above the din of battle. "Your invocation can free you! Use its power!"

Fathoran growled in frustration. That his prisoners had learned to free themselves was a great disappointment.

"Unfortunately," he said, his voice cold as ice, "I'll have to resort to another solution. My little Leothen's line continues to cause problems..."

His eyes settled on Lucien, glowing with disappointment. "Perhaps Selene and Raelar can be saved if I get rid of the rotten fruit."

Without further warning, Fathoran concentrated his power. The air around him cooled rapidly, ice crystals forming. With a brusque gesture, he launched an ice attack towards Lucien, more powerful than any the young Summoner had ever conjured.

Lucien: 140 - 25 crit = 15 / 75

The attack hit Lucien full force, encasing him in a cocoon of ice. Despite his armor, Lucien screamed in pain, the intense cold penetrating to his very bones.