As the cursed energy continued to spread, Linus could only watch helplessly. The village was already showing signs of decay, its once-thriving fields reduced to barren wastelands. The villagers themselves began to fall ill, their bodies weakened by the malevolent force that now surrounded them.
Linus fell to his knees, his voice a whisper. "What have I done?"
Fenrir crouched beside him, his tone calm and reassuring. "You've done what was necessary, Father. The villagers made their choice, and now they face the consequences."
Linus didn't respond. His heart was heavy with guilt, his faith shaken to its core. But somewhere deep inside, a small voice whispered that Fenrir might be right—that this was justice, however twisted it seemed.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the cursed land, Fenrir rose to his feet. "It's time to go, Father Linus. There's nothing left for us here."