Absalom stood motionless in the center of his allotted area, the air around him crackling with pressure, as if gravity itself deferred to his presence. Opposite him, perhaps twenty paces away, was Hinata, who looked battered, shifting his weight ever so slightly, mana flickering restlessly at his fingertips like anxious fireflies.
"Again," Absalom ordered.
Hinata exhaled, raising the hand that gripped a thin tree branch.
He let mana crystallize around it sharply. Once the crystallized mana had formed, he tried making it more fluid while activating the Witcher skill to send dark mana through the construct.
Although barely, and far from what he intended, Hinata managed to form a large mana-coated blade imbued with dark purple energy.
He quickly activated Mana Master as the dark blade screamed forward, carrying every ounce of his frustration.
The attack was fast, precise, and perfect — as far as he knew.
