"You know many people came to this place to seek refuge. It’s the only place they can afford without the strict laws of the authorities, and you just destroyed half of it."
Saint sat cross-legged in a building while Percival and Lucy were opposite him, also sitting on the floor.
There were no sofas, chairs, or tables in this small building.
Lucy lowered her head when she heard what the old man said.
"She’s not in control of her summon." Percival defended with a firm tone.
Saint nodded. "I saw that. But I’ve seen what you did to an island close to Manhattan. With your current strength, you could wash Manhattan and other cities like Queens and Staten Island clean with the ocean. Millions are gone the moment you decide to go crazy."
Percival squinted when Saint glanced at him.
"You don’t know what happened to him." Lucy retorted with a sharpened gaze.
"True..." Saint turned to her. "Doesn’t change the fact that during that fight on that island, thousands of families that had nothing to do with it died."
"I remember someone around his age who blew his hometown into smithereens, killing his parents and siblings before it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, he should have considered those families who were casualties when he fought."
Saint maintained his focus on Percival.
"I feel like I stare at the embodiment of water itself. That’s a lot of potential for a human being, if you’re still one. As beautiful as the sea is, when it rages, it has no friends. One day, you’ll drown her beneath that raging tide, and you’ll search your endless vastness but won’t be able to find her. Maybe you will in the end, but what you’ll see is—"
"He’s not you!" Lucy snapped, then faced Percival. "Why aren’t you saying anything?!"
Percival glanced at her and smiled softly. "Because I see what he’s doing."
His smile was sad but soothing.
"Look at you now."
Lucy blinked.
Saint chuckled. ’Quite a young man. I was indeed trying to see her depth, to determine if the Obsidian had completely taken over, but it seemed she can still care and fight for another. But the boy refused to say I was also warning him.’
"You said you can kill the Obsidian without killing her. How?"
Percival jumped to the old man’s statement that brought them here in the first place.
"It’s not that hard. To kill the Obsidian is to kill the source of its strength. Jealousy and such emotions can’t be tossed aside when you want; it takes enlightenment, but in this case, something external."
"Like what?" Percival asked. There was light at the end of the tunnel; he could only reach out for it with all of his strength.


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