"Ready for a beating?"
I asked with a smile on my face as my mother stood opposite me, the same playful curve tugging at her lips. There was a familiar warmth in that smile, but also a trace of her power. We both knew what was about to follow. I had already cut off any external vision into this place, isolating the world to just the two of us. She stood firm, sword in hand, her stance straight, sharp, and commanding, while I remained relaxed, almost lazy, arms hanging loosely, a faint grin plastered across my face.
"Oh, I remember well enough all the beatings I gave you as a child,"
My mother replied, her tone carrying that dangerous mixture of nostalgia and pride. My lips twitched at her words, but before I could answer, the ground trembled, and her aura exploded.
The Crimson Warlord was awakening.
