(Maria POV)
It started with blood.
Joseph stood alone in the training room, shirtless, hands wrapped in thick gauze now soaked with his own blood. The punching bag was shredded. The walls cracked.
And still, he kept going.
One strike, another, and another.
Each hit was too calm. Too precise. A violence that came not from rage, but from control. He didn’t scream, He didn’t snap, He just burned from the inside out.
“Sir,” a voice came from the doorway. One of his soldiers entered the room, but he gulped hard when he noticed the energy of the room. “We captured two rogues near the northern ridge.” Joseph didn’t answer but heard his words clearly.
“Should we… process them?” He asked in a nervous tone.
Joseph turned slowly. His eyes gleamed silver. “No,” he said. “Put them in the pi
