'CLANG!'
Golden sparks scattered through the workshop, a small spectacle of light dancing through the air before fading away.
'CLANG!'
The old man rotated the blade a few inches, adjusting its position with a precision that only years of experience could grant.
'CLANG!'
Another strike. More precise. Heavier. The sound echoed through the workshop like distant thunder.
Kyrian remained completely still, a statue of flesh and bone standing in the shadow of the doorway. He did not interrupt, nor did he even announce his arrival. He simply observed, his violet eyes fixed upon the master at work.
Just as he had done during the Comprehension Competition, he absorbed every detail, every movement, and every decision.
His violet eyes carefully followed every aspect of Sun Luguo's work. The control of the spiritual flame, the way he adjusted the fire's intensity with a simple gesture.
