The sun of the witches' domain was at its highest point when Kael entered the training center.
The courtyard was vast—a circle of white stone with golden runes inlaid in the edges, surrounded by crystal pillars that pulsed slowly, channeling arcane energy towards the sky. The surrounding mountains echoed the sounds of wind and magic, and an aroma of mana and challenge hung in the air.
Twenty-six witches awaited him in silence.
They were not apprentices. They were the masters of the training, responsible for instructing and shaping the new generations. Experienced, disciplined, and each one possessing their own mastery over an aspect of magic. The kind of opponent that anyone would consider impossible to face—much less all of them at once.
But Kael was not just anyone.
The shadows around him seemed to move as he stepped onto the central circle. The symbol beneath his feet reacted instantly, a subtle hum echoing through the arena as the golden runes lit up.
