The room fell still.
Only the faint hum of the lights and the ragged breaths of Ryan and Anya cut through the silence. Sweat soaked their clothes, their weapons slick in trembling hands. Clara shifted nervously on the bench, her wings twitching faintly as she kept her gaze locked on Nikolai.
He stood tall at the centre, his black aura spilling across the floor like smoke. A faint crimson flicker around the edges of his eyes, veins bulging from his skin.
"You've barely tasted a scratch," Nikolai's deep, raspy voice echoed as he cracked his shoulders and adjusted his stance. "Shall we attempt to make more progress?"
Anya's chest rose and fell as she glared at him, fangs exposed. "You… you're not even fighting us seriously!? When did you become so strong?"
Nikolai smiled at her but focused on the other, someone who impressed him. Ryan didn't have any major enhancements, just his human body and skill with the spear. He survived until now with sheer willpower.
