Kishor nodded, memories flooding back. "We shared a tiny mountain village. Back then, no one called her Madam Pudge... Her name was Alice, and she was lively, bright, maybe not a great beauty, but charming enough that the elders joked we were born for each other."
His eyes softened, as though he could still see the slim girl with twin braids chasing him through rice fields, laughing, "Wait for me, Kishor!"
"We entered the city together to train. My gifts blossomed, hers lagged. Fame gathered around me like storm clouds, and I saw new shadows in her eyes, self-doubt, fear that she no longer matched the man I was becoming. I laughed it off, told her she was enough, but words can't fight a fear that deep..."
"I never imagined she'd take such a desperate path." Kishor's voice thickened. "She found an ancient Demonic Cultivation. Power surged overnight, but at a monstrous cost. That art warps the body-flesh swells, bones distort..."
"By the time I learned, the change had begun. She outpaced me in strength, yet her own reflection terrified her. I was shocked and furious. I demanded to know why she did it, but she just cried and said she didn't want to be left behind. She wanted to stay by my side, always, and didn't want others saying she wasn't good enough for me..."
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