Caelen's smirk lingered like a scar—thin, deliberate—but his eyes had changed. Narrowed. Sharp and cold, like a blade testing its own edge.
The faint hum of mana brushed across his skin, crackling against the air as if the atmosphere itself was warning him to stop.
He didn't.
He didn't even have to look up to feel Kairo's glare—the pressure of it heavy enough to pin anyone else to the ground.
Kairo's aura bled through the air in slow, deliberate waves—an ocean of blue fire that wrapped around the sword in his hand.
The weapon pulsed like a living thing, every beat synchronized with his heart.
The dim light caught the edges of the blade, and for a fleeting moment, it looked as though the cavern itself was reflecting blood.
