Mark sighed deeply, as if burdened by a weight no one else could carry.
"It's my fault," he admitted, lowering his gaze. "From the moment my soul was sealed, it started releasing infernal energy. Unconsciously. Constantly. It's never stopped—not for a single moment."
He clutched his head suddenly, grimacing. "It's still happening. Right now, as we speak, my soul is leaking infernal energy into the world."
Mark looked back at the altar.
"And over the centuries… that energy built up. It formed that forcefield. It's the densest concentration of infernal energy in the entire Mourning Depths."
He looked around at the silent crowd, voice grim.
"Anyone who tries to step inside that field—poof. Gone. Just like that."
Then his eyes settled on Max.
