Chapter Text
“Really?”
The metallic dummy slammed onto the ground.
A failure seeking its own worth.
Dust brushed forward, coating the training ground with an unpleasant shade of grey.
A lion-like demon hybrid towered behind it, sighing from disappointment. Flame bit his lip.
It was Flame’s brother:
ManePear.
“Is this all you’ve got?”
The lion-hybrid crossed his arms, unimpressed.
Flame was panting, his hands were rough from overuse. His hands were numb from gripping too tight and too long. The clean polish of his boots were gone, tainted with dust.
“I-”
He looked at his own work. Distraught.
He only left a dent in the metal. Barely.
Flame felt sick.
“Hit the dummy one last time.”
He ordered, condescendingly.
Flame’s sword lowered. Slightly.
His wrists clicked wrong. His pupils shook.
Flame didn’t answer him.
ManePear rolled his eyes absentmindedly.
His head turned to Flame. “And if you actually pull it off, I might consider giving you a day off tomorrow.”
Flame’s hands tightened on the handle.
“Are you actually… serious?”
Flame’s hands only shook.
“Sure.” A shrug, dismissive.
“Cause if you pull it off, that means you know how to control your mana for once.”
The training dummy screeched as it got dragged against the ground.
Flame‘s fingers twitched—flinching at the grating sound.
The dummy was returned to its original position.
And it stood there.
Taunting. Mocking.
ManePear, almost lazily.
“But we both know you can’t pull that off, don’t you?”
Saq’vi taj itaqwd.
Flame shuddered.
“I-”
He tried—the words rotting in his throat.
“You know.”
Footsteps approached. Calm—not considerate.
A rough hand grazed Flame’s forearm, correcting his stance.
“Aside from chaos mana,”
He nudged Flame’s sword higher.
“—did you know that blaze mana is also one of the most difficult mana types to control or even master?”
“K fqp’v wpfgtuvcpf yja oa uqp ku c dncbg fgoqp.”
Flame’s hands were suspended in the air, twitching. His veins began to burn inside him, even if it wasn’t evident.
The corners of his mouth began to quiver.
“Xq'o y ukdoq.”
“Then…” Flame swallowed.
“What should I do…?”
He stared at ManePear. Pupils dilating.
The question hung on the air. Sagging.
The words only rang in his tormented mind.
ManePear stood beside him—unmoving.
But Flame looked up to him—awaiting.
“If’mm gjhvsf ju pvu po ijt pxo.”
The wind blew through them, caressing Flame’s overused body, which was fatigued. The dust made his skin crawl.
Flame swallowed.
He regretted the question. He regretted asking.
ManePear towered over him.
He had always been on a pedestal. He worked hard for it. Flame always wanted to be like him one day.
ManePear finally responded.
The answer being all to familiar.
“I’ll have to know more first.”
The classroom was cold, the air was dry. The lights were sterile and unmoving.
And like every other living being in the classroom—the students were unbelievably bored.
“Okay, since it’s Thursday today—”
“It’s mana analyzation class.”
The class’ voice were dead. Monotone—specifically.
Mana analyzation ‘universal torture’ according to public opinion. Eggchan’s experience—not his.
But he didn’t find it boring for the same reasons everyone else did.
Wemmbu had chaos mana.
Well—obviously. He was a chaos demon.
Chaos mana had been mostly safe for many, as the newer generations filtered out its danger.
Call that a lame nerf—
The bloodlines these days never held pure chaos mana, much less have offspring that had the untainted version of it.
But Wemmbu had—
The table creaked, the floor felt unstable.
Like taking a step would break the floor tiles.
—pure chaos mana.
It was extremely deadly in the hands of beings that were never born with the mana itself.
Talk about ostracizing.
Wemmbu would admit.
Pure chaos mana was overpowered.
Well—too much drawbacks.
The mana leeches onto blood, feeding onto it until the blood cells mutate into the mana itself.
Pure chaos mana was corrosive, parasitic, and reproductive—and weird.
The mana of everything.
Everything that had been.
Everything that is.
Everything that will be.
Everything that could’ve been.
Everything that never should be.
Again—the mana of literally everything.
Not exaggerating.
And it was another reason that it was lethal to hands that were never meant to wield it in the first place.
Again—ostracizing.
On realistic terms, the victim would die instantly—feeling every sensation possible and everything that would be.
Wemmbu had studied this mana.
It was for his own good; and because his family had no idea what it was.
Not his half-blood relatives, not the void demons—the avians too, obviously.
Then—there would be Wemmbu.
The chaos incarnate.
Okay—who was the odd one out again?
Wemmbu sighed.
His gaze drew up to the white board—
Damn.
The whiteboard was crammed with words.
Worse than ninety percent of the traffic jams he’d experienced as a kid before.
Wemmbu paused, grimacing. His hand brushed over the pen, the notebook grazed his fingers.
Am I supposed to write that? Like—
“You better copy this for your notes cause this information isn’t in the books.”
WHY-?!
Their professor was lying, Wemmbu knew that.
But second day of class? Seriously?
Wemmbu’s eyes twitched, seething silently in the fourth row miserably.
Yet he didn’t want to gamble his future test scores and copied anyway.
Like grades even mattered in this anarchy academy.
Mana.
Mana is where magic comes from. It is the energy that fuels magic and makes it physical to use.
Mana is in DNA. In rare cases, it could be in blood; making it harder to control, to tame, but easier to display.
Mana can be corrosive, making the user’s life easier of slightly more difficult.
Overuse of mana could lead to fatigue, or even forced corrosion of blood or DNA. The corrosion may be even physical. Yet in a few hours of rest, this can be easily fixed.
In Wemmbu’s case, his mana was corrosive. Something like Hollow mana. Which was—highly parasitic.
It wasn’t that bad, but it was something that bothered him.
The way that his veins would burn, the way everything was too bright and too shallow.
Wemmbu grimaced.
His gaze was still glued to the paper.
Their professor on the other hand was on his chair, in peace, reading a book like it had fixed his love life—
The different types of mana.
Chaos mana.
The most powerful type of mana, yet the most unstable. It is hard to control like every other powerful mana that exists.
It feeds on chaos around the user’s environment. And its outbursts are highly unpredictable yet consistent in power level.
In the years of 2018 which were over a century ago, chaos mana had been more lethal and powerful. As many records had stated difficulty in use.
Pure chaos mana is a subtype of chaos mana, which is way more lethal and deadly in the hands of any living being that are not compatible.
Pure chaos mana is kept in most governments for studying. Ever since the Unknown war of 2023 the small population of pure chaos mana users had began to deplete until they had completely gone extinct.
Wemmbu swallowed. His fingers tightened around the pen handle.
He knew it was a lie. His family knew it was a lie.
Because if it was the truth. Then why was he here?
And like cowards.
They hid. They had kept quiet.
They had their mouths shut.
Wemmbu had been fine.
He was chill after a few years, no one really suspected him. It was pretty useless to worry after securing his identity by now.
Well, he couldn’t use his—
Never mind.
Blaze mana.
Almost as powerful as chaos mana. Though, it thrives on the element of fire, like its name. It is as hard to tame like chaos mana itself yet more consistent if mastered.
Most demons have this type of mana with the element of fire becoming common in current demon population.
Wemmbu perked up, rereading the text.
It sounded interesting.
He could wonder how it worked. How it would strengthen him. How it would make him win every future battle—
Enough about his ego.
Eggchan side eyed him from the third row. Mouthing something about “going insane”.
Sure, Wemmbu didn’t like looking at long informational text. And I’m pretty sure we all don’t either. It made him feel like a nerd sometimes.
He’d spent years to try and tame his mana.
Yes—years. Wemmbu was dedicated; he still is.
He’d only done a few questionable things to try and tame his mana. Like—
He brushed a hand against his shoulder. Shuddering.
Okay—if Wemmbu were to be honest; his hands were incredibly tired. His wrists clicked wrong.
So like any responsible student—
He summarized most of the text that he was meant to copy.
Aero mana.
Mana of air. Can control weather and make you fly.
Vital mana.
Mana of life. The main mana of elemental mana like blaze mana and frost mana. It’s good in healing magic.
Void mana.
Mana of darkness, not emptiness—never to be confused by hollow mana or your test scores will spiral down. It is featured in old necromancy back when it was at its prime but it got nerfed like chaos mana so it doesn’t work.
Wemmbu wasn’t going to lie; the void mana explanation was a bit longer than necessary.
Wemmbu would’ve swore he wasn’t playing favorites.
The air felt lighter. He smiled to himself, the weight in his chest suddenly gone.
Finally his exhausted hands and his horrible writing would be put to an end—
Hollow mana.
Wemmbu paused.
He brought his knees closer to each other, shivering.
The mana of pure emptiness.
It is the mana of nothing. It feeds on nothing. And anything that lived would be engulfed by this mana if touched.
It kills instantly.
With one second, it rattles the body.
With three seconds, it corrodes the body.
With five seconds, the victim ceases to exist.
Hollow mana can be summoned by anyone with magic.
But one question can only remain: can they survive the mana itself?
Though, with training and safe exposure, this mana can be used and controlled.
Like exposing oneself to hollow mana in small bits, gradually increasing the amount of mana used until the body and the mana become one.
Another way to tame this mana—a questionable training exercise is where oneself does the exact same process, yet the amount of mana used is much higher than the standard.
In many cases, people who use this exercise either pass away or fail with chronic injuries.
In rare cases, the body is completely corroded and ‘dead’ with the lethal mana itself holding the body together.
Wemmbu swallowed.
He did not write that down.
And if he were to be honest.
That monster of a mana would better be off in the voids of the Nether.
Wemmbu shook his head.
He looked at Eggchan at the third row, chilling like he had finished a day—with how his wings were stretched out.
The unfortunate student behind him couldn’t see the whiteboard.
Wemmbu shrugged—not his problem.
Now that he thought about it.
Wemmbu tapped his jaw, deep in diabolical thought.
Should he bring his mace tomorrow at his 1v1 with Flame?
The neighborhood of Forosilta had always been a peaceful place.
The houses had been built with symmetrical accuracy. The roads had been perfectly smooth and clean. Everything around was always tainted with linings of ice.
Forosilta had always been a frost demon village.
The neighborhood, permanently cursed with winter.
A perfect aero spell from a benevolent caretaker.
Until a blaze demon stepped onto the ground, melting the icy roads that Forosilta had relied on.
Knock, knock.
“Yo bro? Marlowww?” Flame knocked, on the icy door.
“You there?” He shivered from the cold.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Marlowww?” Flame persisted.
“Bro, you said we’d go to the woods today.”
The door stood still.
He pursed his lips, ignoring the way his skin went numb.
Knock.
“Marlowww?”
Knock, knock.
“You there, bro?”
Knock, knock, knock—
The doorknob tilted.
Flame paused, his eyes began to widen. Anticipating.
The door began to open.
Flame would be honest. The door looked old; designed like the old scarfs his grandmother had. He hated how dusty those were.
Marlowww was frozen at the doorway.
Her arms were shuddering. Pupils dilating.
“Bro, uh—” Flame blinked profusely.
His eyes burned.
“Y-yeah? The forest.. right…?” She swallowed.
Her smile was more of a grimace.
“I-i’ll just get my wooden sword-!”
She stammered before running back inside.
The door slammed.
Flame blinked.
The door was too vivid. The colors were too bright. The sky was too searing. The ice was too reflective—
SLAM.
Flame’s shoulders jumped.
He blinked profusely once more.
Flame was thankful with the fact that Marlowww barely had mana he could see. If he looked at a chaos demon, he would’ve begged to go blind.
“I-i got my sword-!”
Marlowww panted.
Her timid voice was always stark and recognizable.
She wiped the cold sweat from her forehead.
There was an old wooden sword in her hands; carved from raw wood they had stole from a random cottage in the middle of nowhere.
Good thing the person who actually lived there wasn’t at home back then. They would’ve gotten cooked.
Flame pulled out his own wooden sword. The wood was less cold and dry, it even looked newer—though they made their swords at the same time.
“Less go, bro-!” Flame whipped around, running away.
Marlowww snickered lightly, only to realize that Flame was far ahead.
“W-wait up!”
Flame’s footsteps melted the ice, leaving water as a sign of his presence. Marlowww always followed him, even if everyone looked at him weird.
She never met a blaze demon before.
She never met someone good at PvP like her.
Her parents always described her as a perfect princess. Her porcelain white skin, her pale blue eyes, her blond hair.
Marlowww was far from perfect. Far from being a timid, shy girl that always got pushed around.
She wanted to fight.
PvP was her thing, her hobby, her skill.
If anything; Marlowww was timid, she was quiet. The kind of girls that people would look down upon.
But Marloww never failed to show dominance in a battle.
SLASH.
The pine tree shook like it regretted existing.
Its leaves, violently rattled—
“WOAH—”
Flame jolted back. Throwing himself away from the bark.
Cold wind stabbed him in the eyes.
He blinked. A lot. Too much.
Great. At this point he was fighting blindness more than Marlowww—
SLASH.
The wooden blade hissed past his arm. Threatening.
Flame blocked.
Fire snapping up his finger tips like it had opinions.
Marlowww’s glare sharpened.
Her hands shoved the blade down.
Wood creaked.
Their swords scraped, splinters flying like shooting stars.
Screeching.
Flame twisted his weapon upward.
Her grip faltered—
He slipped free.
She staggered, breath caught.
Her pupils flicked straight to Flame’s dull blade.
Eyes shaking.
Snow melted under them.
Snow fell down like the forest was watching.
“Your hits are lazy,”
Marlowww muttered—half advice, half insult.
SLASH.
Flame swung down. Violent.
Too hard.
Marlowww blocked. Again.
Sighing like a disappointed mother.
Still, her stance shook. Too alert.
Flame steadied himself.
The corners of his lips began to creak.
Water stained the ground.
The snow melted away—giving up on existence.
Marlowww’s pupils darted.
Her right?
She whipped her head, eyelids forced open.
No—left?
Flame flickered beside her.
Wait—right?
SLASH.
Right shoulder.
Marlowww didn’t get hit.
She countered.
Flame threw himself back.
The ground betrayed his stance.
Marlowww deadpanned. Sword, ready.
Flame lunged, blade warm against the cold air.
Marlowww blocked. Again.
But she slid back.
Flame smirked.
“‘Lazy’, huh? Come on—we’re the same skill level—”
She suddenly tossed her sword upward.
Wood shrieked.
Their already half-broken blades chipped apart even more. It was painful to witness, honestly.
“You’re near my skill level.”
She stepped forward, voice flat.
“There’s a difference.”
“…Like what?” Flame readjusted.
She didn’t answer.
Her eyes half lidded.
She hurled toward him.
Head-first. Zero hesitation.
Flame dodged left—
She sped.
Then right—
She flickered.
Maybe upwards?
The blade was from above.
Where—
The blade blinked near his left.
Where was she—
HIT.
Pain shot through Flame’s shoulder.
He staggered backwards, clutching his sword.
Marlowww had landed her strike clean.
She deadpanned, but her voice cracked just a hair.
“You—actually caught me off guard for a second.”
Flame stumbled back, panting.
The unstable soil betrayed him again.
Marlowww dashed in—relentless.
Unfatigued.
“Woah—” His breath, caught. “Okay— chill—”
Flame wheezed, almost slipping on nothing.
Marlowww paused.
She only raised an eyebrow, pale eyes glistening under the tainted sunlight.
Water soaked the dirt. Ice melted.
Flame’s boots were warm again.
Yeah. He overheated the terrain again. Like always.
He pushed himself upright, brushing dirt from his already not-so-clean clothes.
He unsheathed his sword—slowly.
Too slowly to count as an attempt to continue fighting.
Flame didn’t play dirty.
Even when he probably should’ve.
The blade’s tip aligned with Marlowww’s face—which was stoic and empty.
Marlowww stood a single meter away.
“GGs, bro.”
Flame smiled—half laugh, half self-insult.
Wind brushed behind her, ruffling Flame’s hair.
She met his eyes—orange, yellow—reflecting in her distant, apathetic pupils.
Marlowww exhaled.
She lifted her blade, tapping it gently against his.
The swords lay aligned.
One of them stood firm. The other wavered.
A tiny grin snuck onto her face.
“Good game, Flame.”
PrinceZam would like to see something interesting in his life. Something to spice up his boring days sorting the people who followed him.
What a great thing that the training grounds were overly crowded this evening.
‘Why?’—you ask.
Well, it was for the peculiar fact that there was a particular 1v1 currently happening.
People were cheering. All different directions, all different screams, all different bets.
“If Flame wins I’ll buy you a beer!”
“Dude if that transfer student wins I’m going to the FarLands!”
“NAH I’M GOING TO THE NETHER IF FLAME DOESN’T WIN.”
Though, Zam wasn’t at the cramming crowds below.
He had watched from above. From the main campus balconies.
He had been somewhat glad that there was an ingrained rule to never PvP or kill anyone within the campus.
Well—except for the training grounds—it was a different thing.
It was a casual spar maybe, knowing they were wearing safety totems—which were quite lame. But Zam wouldn’t want the transfer student to die that early.
And if it wasn’t obvious already.
Flame and Wemmbu were the ones fighting down there.
Of course Flame picks a fight with the transfer student. He always does that to people he seems strong.
Zam traced his fingers along the small engravings on his trident.
It was hard to see up here, really.
He was on the sixth floor. Interested.
His eyes were keen, a small grin growing on his face every now and then. The crowd’s cheers below irritated him, sure.
But he looked closely. Squinting.
The transfer student—Wemmbu—had began to use his wings.
Zam would say it was unfair. Flame didn’t possess wings. Sure, elytras existed, yet—
Zam sighed.
Flame had fought to unfair disadvantages before; even to his own disliking.
The most anyone would probably get if they fought Flame like that would be a whole rant about honor and fairness.
The world isn’t fair.
Zam blinked. His crown’s jewels glistened against the soft moon that shone above them all.
The fight below him was honor against someone who didn’t know the idea of honor.
Zam—in this case—was interested.
Wemmbu’s movements were chaotic, they did the job. It lacked precision, but the strike landed clean like it never mattered.
Flame on the other hand was slightly struggling. He had no elytra, he didn’t have the advantage of staying airborne.
That struck such a thought.
Flame was—actually starting to struggle.
Zam shifted, eyes keen. His crown tilted.
The battle below was intense.
Yet.
Zam would still like to ask.
Would the Immortal Demon win this time?
Wemmbu wouldn’t say he fought fair.
Though, he would say that he fought with great outcome.
He always wanted power.
Power that he would gain, to exploit, and to dominate.
He craved the taste of victory on his tongue. He smiled when his opponents scrambled as a last attempt to win.
He was powerful. Skillful too—but not as much.
But did skill really matter when power worked?
Did skill really matter when power was absent?
Wemmbu would say:
No.
He had a problem with people who claimed to be skilled. He’d always beat them with his prized mace; Gambit.
His smile would be so rewarding, so tasteful and sweet. Bitter to someone’s eyes, but sweet as a drug.
Wemmbu would say he was addicted.
He wanted to see the outcome of his power.
He desired it.
So when he picked up his mace after months of no use…
He smiled.
He smiled ever so wide.
The way that the handle cradled his palms. How heavy it was, how the engravings lay in front of his eyes in calligraphy.
Gambit.
Wemmbu’s beloved mace, his trustworthy tool.
Something that reflected everything about him.
How he would risk himself in PvP competitions back in middle-school. How he took chaotic moves in high-school.
He gambled his fate, and won.
Yet.
Wemmbu wouldn’t cross one line.
He paused, his wings pulling back.
The smooth, white feathers shuddered.
Everyday, his body felt wrong.
Wrong enough to bother him.
Wrong enough to puzzle him.
It was. It really was.
His mana didn’t help either.
Pure chaos mana; right at his palms, in his blood.
In his being.
Yuskutk roqk eua oy utre cuxzne zu hk iuotzgotkj.
He had all the power. He had everything.
Wemmbu has the power.
He has everything.
O's yuxxe eua'xk—
That doesn’t count.
That power is off limits for him.
He’s pretty chill with his power level currently—not much could beat him.
Even then, he would lose in rare circumstances.
He didn’t really hold back, it was just—
Hxd'an pxrwp cx mrn cx hxdabnuo.
It was kinda forced on him, actually.
Though, if he were to be honest.
He wouldn’t mind that much.
Wemmbu still was powerful as a chaos demon as it is.
And with Gambit, he’ll win like no other.
Wemmbu wants to be the strongest.
And he’ll make sure he’d reach the quota.
Even if he couldn’t use his all.
The forest was dense; covered in snow and decorated in pine trees. The wind was cold as always—a free ticket to frostbite.
The two children stood still. Their swords’ tips faced against each other.
Flame’s breath was shallow, Marlowww blinked.
They dropped their swords.
The muddy ground beneath them splashed on their boots. They didn’t mind.
Marlowww reached out a hand. Sighing with a small, thin smile.
Flame took her hand. Chuckling.
“You wanna go home now?”
“Nope.” Her small voice didn’t match her words.
“I’d rather go to the frozen lake.”
Flame blinked, too much. His pupils dilated.
“You sure?”
“I brought my skates.”
Marlowww pulled out her small sack.
“Okay bro-”
Marlowww bolted.
“WAIT-”
Flame cried out. He was far behind.
He snatched their wooden swords. His hands got muddy.
His feet scrambled against the slippery terrain.
“Catch me if you can!”
Marlowww yelled—technically—she was trying.
But she choked in her own laughter.
The snow suffered to their footsteps. First, being crushed by Marloww’s thick boots, then being melted by Flame right after.
The sky began to darken, soft snowfall fell onto them. The sweet snowflakes landed on their noses. Marlowww sneezed.
They ran hastily for sure, but they also held back with the fear of slipping and face planting on the ground.
Which was—something that wasn’t uncommon to Flame back when he was slightly younger. Maybe nine years old?
“We’re here.”
Marlowww reassured, euphoria clinging to her.
The trees opened up to a large frozen lake. The ice was thick, the weather was cold enough to prevent the lake from melting.
Flame stepped out, the snow dripping into water. He found his way onto a dry log, sitting on it.
Marlowww sat next to him, tying her ice skates on. They were polished and nice, well crafted by a frost demon probably.
“I’ll just stay here, as always.”
Flame chuckled, waving a dismissive hand.
She flickered, turning to him. “I kinda feel bad for you.” She looked away. “I mean—you get ignored all the time.”
Flame blinked.
“I just—”
She couldn’t find words. Fingers twitching.
She bit her lip, swallowing.
“I just don’t want you to get left out, you know.”
Flame blinked. Again.
The sky dimmed, relieving him by only the slightest. Everything around him was still too bright.
This time, he—
“Bro, it’s fine, really.”
—didn’t know what to feel about that.
The faint light of Marlowww’s mana darkened; Flame saw. He regretted lying.
A beat of silence stretched between them.
His hair was matted against his skin—wet from melted snow. He dragged a hand across his face, looking away.
“Okay.” She finished her laces; her skin was paler.
“If that’s what you want, I won’t force you.”
Flame blinked.
He flicked his gaze away as if looking at her would blind him.
“I just want you to be okay, you know.”
Marlowww stood, moving closer to the icy surface.
“You’re the first person in this boring village I’d call interesting.” She muttered.
It wasn’t solemn.
It was in a tone that claimed to be a fact.
Flame froze.
The heat died from his fingertips.
“Bro, uh-”
Flame scratched the back of his neck.
Eds gm K g nfgzi bimat?
“It’s fine, really.”
Marlowww didn’t trust him.
He chuckled. Self deprecating.
“I’d probably melt the ice anyways.”
Saq'vi g pvacj bimat—gtb pvacj bimatc bat'j fkyi mi.
Marlowww snorted, her shoulders shook.
“You could say that.”
She stepped into the ice. Calm. Considerate.
Precise.
Her skating blades cut the surface, gliding with ease. Her arms stretched out as if she wanted to reach the horizons.
Her flowing blond hair was brushed by the wind. Her porcelain skin was caressed by snowflakes.
Flame watched her, maybe in awe—even if she saw her skate a million times before.
Marlowww never liked skating.
Sure, it was a frost demon tradition.
A tradition she never appreciated.
The idea was forced onto her face the day she turned four. When her parents gave her a pair of skates she’d have to use for the rest of her career.
They wanted her to be a prodigy. A skating prodigy.
But really, she hated the idea.
The way the ice stood too still.
The way that everything moved too smoothly.
There were no bursts of force meant to cut, to hurt, to stab. There were no short victories earned through blocking, through dodging—countering.
Marlowww assumed that skating was the art of a dead dream.
She wanted to hold a sword. To raise it and call it victory.
To see the jubilant crowds witnessing her skill.
But.
Marlowww was stuck here.
Stuck in Forosilta. Deemed to live a boring life.
To never find love.
To never hope.
To never laugh.
To never smile.
Her eyes lay on the goal; to become a PvP master. To win all the duels possible.
To be good at what she loved.
Marlowww wished Flame had understood.
Understood that what he desired was wrong.
K bat'j tiib guuihjgtui.
Tikjdiv ba saq, PfgmiPvgwc.
———