A combat style not based on dominance of one element.
But on synthesis.
Each elemental thread answered the last. None dominated. None lagged behind. Fire set tempo. Water redirected. Air guided. Earth countered. Shadow twisted beneath it all—watching, coiling, shaping edge and silhouette.
And all of them—all of them—moved around the core.
His core.
The Blueprint.
The silent pulse in his chest that didn't force or pull—but offered shape through emptiness.
Another step.
Another flick.
The mana swirled into a spiral, then unfurled behind him like a fan of pressure—deflecting an incoming shockwave from the beast's latest roar.
He slid under it, hand pressing to the ground, and the earth responded—not by rising, but by yielding, shifting his weight forward in an elegant, controlled push.
His combat style wasn't about overwhelming power.
It was adaptation.
No—integration.
He didn't fight with elements.
He fought as if he were one.
And slowly, the battlefield noticed.
