Death

"How could I let this happen?!"

Hugo rushed over to Gaia's side to prop him off the forest floor. The old man looked even older now. His skin stuck to his bones, and the withered muscles from a hundred years were displayed so brazenly, mostly because there was no other option.

"N-no. Leave me here. I can at least feel the earth on its last legs this way," after nearly a second, Gaia spoke.

His voice was hoarse. It sounded like someone had rubbed sandpaper against a brick wall. It was the voice of someone that hadn't drunk water in a few weeks. He was being weakened by something or someone, and it only fulfilled Hugo's expectations.

Gaia's aura had become weaker. The usually overflowing mana fountain was gone, and what was there was a pile of skin and bones.

"The earth is dying, Hugo. Can you feel it? The very thing that had kept me alive for decades is dying so rapidly," Hugo didn't respond. He knew. Of course, he knew.