The young man felt a chill run down his spine.
"Damn it!" he exclaimed, instinctively stepping back.
"What the hell is this? Wasn't he a cultivator of the blood path? How the hell does he have lightning Qi now?"
He moved behind his guardian, his eyes still fixed on Kyrian. The arrogance that had once filled his chest had completely evaporated. In its place, only a cold, creeping fear remained.
He had not been able to see the attack. He had not sensed the Qi approaching. He had not had time to raise his sword to block.
The middle-aged man rose from the wall, his expression now as hard as stone. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I don't know how either, Young Master." He said, his voice low and controlled.
"But… he seems like a completely different person now."
And it was true. Kyrian still wore the same red robe of the Blood Court. He still wielded the same blood dagger. But something about him had changed.
