The man who had announced the execution shouted again, his voice booming across the square. “Hey! Little girl! Step back! What do you think you’re doing there?!”

But Melly did not move. Her small body stood rigid before the blazing fire, her eyes locked on the wretched woman engulfed in flames. The shouts around her faded into distant echoes. All she truly heard was the long, harrowing scream tearing from the woman’s throat.

The man who had lit the fire barked louder, fury in his voice. “Whose child is this?!”

He turned to the packed crowd. “Get her out of here before I burn her alongside the cursed one!”

Still, no one moved. No hands reached for her. No bodies stepped forward. The people only looked at each other, some bowing their heads, others staring blankly. Their faces were carved with confusion, fear, or feigned ignorance.

Even Ashtoria, standing in the crowd, remained silent, watching.

Melly didn’t care. She kept staring. And then, through the terrible screams, the burning woman’s gaze met hers. Hollow eyes, full of pain, full of surrender. Melly’s heart clenched as if crushed by an unseen hand.

She’s suffering so much…

The thought pierced her mind. ‘If I had stepped forward sooner… if I had done something… could she have been saved? Would she still have ended up like this?’

Melly knew it wasn’t her fault. She was just a powerless fourteen-year-old girl. But still, her heart ached with every moment of that horror.

“That’s what happens when you’re cursed.” “No! She’s a victim. Everyone knows it!” “Shut up! Don’t say that too loudly.” “I pity her… but who dares defy the chief’s family?”

Fragments of voices from the crowd swirled in her head. And with them, her brother’s words returned. ‘Don’t be so quick to believe in rumors or people’s words, Melly. Most of them only repeat the foolishness they’ve heard.’

Her gaze sharpened on the burning woman’s face. The sorrow, the pain, the despair raging in those eyes—so raw, so human. She had never wanted any of this. Not from the start.

And even if she was cursed, was it truly her fault? Did she deserve such torment? The answer was clear. No.

Melly’s eyes flicked to the chief’s wife. The woman stood proudly, her thick makeup still intact, her lips curved in a thin, cutting smile. In that instant, Melly understood. A person who could smile before suffering like this, that was true evil.

Her tears had stopped. What remained inside her was a storm of emotion. And then, the scream ceased. The flames still raged, but the woman’s body no longer moved.

Melly turned slowly to the crowd. Dozens of eyes looked away, refusing to meet hers. They all knew the truth, yet none had lifted a hand.

Why?

Were they afraid? Why were they afraid?

The answer struck her. Because they had no power.

And again her brother’s words echoed in her head. ‘Power is everything in this world, Melly. With power, you can do anything. And people will call it right.’

If that was true, did the chief’s wife have the right to do this simply because she held power? Did that make her actions right, only because no one could oppose her?

Melly lowered her gaze, her heart trembling.

Then… I want power.

She no longer looked at the crowd. Instead, her eyes lifted to the heavy, brooding sky. The clouds hung thick above the square, straining as if ready to break. In her heart, a faint whisper rose: If only rain would fall… she wouldn’t have to burn like this.

The words echoed inside her, quiet but piercing. Again she whispered to herself, deeper, more desperate: ‘If only I could bring down the rain…’

And at that very moment.

A single drop landed on the tip of her nose.

Melly jolted. She tilted her head back, staring at the swirling gray heavens. Raindrops were forming, hesitant but real. Her heart pounded. Something was strange.

The feeling was familiar. For as long as she could remember, whenever she gazed at stormy skies, a strange instinct stirred within her. A whisper urging the rain to fall harder, the wind to howl louder, the lightning to strike. She always wished it and often, it came true.

In those storms, when the rain poured endlessly and lightning split the heavens, she always felt something she could never explain. A strange connection, as if she were bound to the sky itself. In those fleeting moments, something within her pressed to break free, though always locked away.

A flicker of forgotten childhood surfaced—dark storm clouds, a place she knew yet couldn’t name, and the desperate eyes of a monster. But before she could grasp it, the memory was gone.

The sharp voice of the chief’s wife split the uneasy silence. Her heavy makeup had begun to smear under the drizzle, but her eyes still burned as she glared at Melly.

“You dare stand there as if defying me? Foolish little brat!” Her voice shook, not with fear, but with indignation at her pride being challenged. “Move, or I’ll punish you before them all!”

Melly did not flinch. Her feet felt rooted in the earth, her eyes never leaving the storming sky. Her chest rose and fell, but her face remained calm, untouchable by insults.

And then the rain came, crashing down upon the village in torrents. Sheets of water poured as if the heavens had burst. The wind roared, whipping ash and smoke in wild spirals. Lightning ripped the sky apart with deafening fury.

The villagers panicked, scattering for shelter. Slapping footsteps and cries filled the air. The fire consuming the execution post hissed out beneath the downpour, leaving only thin white smoke swirling in the gale.

Through the chaos, Melly stood unmoving, her gaze locked on the blackened sky. In her heart, a question whispered. ‘Did this storm come… because I willed it?’

The thought was absurd. Yet wasn’t this world already full of absurdities? If the storm had risen from her wish, then perhaps it was the world itself answering.

Her small hand clenched tight. She turned toward the chief’s wife, whose fine gown clung drenched to her body. Melly’s voice broke out, soft yet cutting, “Why did you do something so vile?”

The woman scoffed, even as her smeared eyeliner ran down her face. “Because she dared to defy me. Because she didn’t know her place. That filthy woman deserved it.”

Melly stared hard at her, rain flowing over her face like tears. “So just because she defied you… that made it her fault?”

The woman snapped back without hesitation. “Yes, of course!”

A fire flared in Melly’s chest, fierce and overwhelming. She roared, her voice breaking against the storm. “How can you be so cruel?! Are you even human?!”

The heavens answered. Lightning cracked, wind screamed wilder, the entire village shuddered beneath the storm’s wrath.

The chief’s wife’s face twisted. She hissed, “Enough! Drag this brat to me! I’ll teach her a lesson!”

Two hulking men pushed through the storm, their hands reaching for Melly’s small shoulders. Normally, she would have trembled, terrified, searching for escape. But not this time. Her heart thundered, and her eyes blazed.

‘If this storm is me… then I have power.’

The thought came naturally, as if she were only remembering what she had forgotten.

And in that instant, the truth crystallized in her mind. ‘No. This storm didn’t come. I am the storm.’

The wind exploded around her, a violent cyclone that hurled the two men back. Their bodies slammed into the mud, rolling helplessly.

Melly lifted her face. Her long black hair clung to her skin, her eyes gleaming in the flashes of lightning. She stared directly at the chief’s wife, who now stumbled backward, fear etched across her features.

Melly’s voice rang out, echoing with the thunder. “People like you… deserve punishment!”

And in that moment, the sky split open. Lightning crashed down with a deafening roar, striking the ground where the chief’s wife stood. Her scream pierced the air for only a heartbeat before the storm swallowed it whole.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep