After Isabella finished speaking, her breathing suddenly weakened, as fragile as a flickering candle struggling against the wind.
"Sister!" Alan called out, his voice trembling as he felt her breath growing fainter. He tightened his hold on her frail body, his heart clenching in despair.
At this moment, he would have given anything to take her place and endure this torment in her stead.
Having experienced the grinding torment of hell himself, Alan understood better than anyone the terrifying depths of spiritual suffering—a pain that pierced one's very soul.
But Isabella… she was just a child, barely in her teens.
She should have been enjoying the carefree and innocent days of youth, untouched by such agony.
Alan clung to Isabella with all his might, as though trying to fuse her with his own body, shielding her from the relentless torment.
The surrounding crowd watched the siblings in silence, their faces etched with various emotions.
