The arena quaked as Aamir's fist, wrapped in roaring blue flames, smashed into the beast's claws. The collision rang like metal striking metal, sparks cascading into the air.
But the beast did not fall. Its talons dug in, stopping the blow with raw ferocity.
Aamir narrowed his eyes, heat radiating off his skin. "So… you're strong. Very strong."
The beast bared its jagged fangs, voice dripping with hunger. "Stronger than you think, boy."
Aamir stepped back, shaking his hand loose. He knew it instantly—this was no fight to win barehanded. His eyes sharpened. "Hand-to-hand won't do anymore."
With a slow breath, he extended his right hand into the empty air. Space shimmered—like reality itself was tearing. From within the dimensional rift, a shape emerged.
A blade.
The hilt black as night. The edge glistening with faint crimson lines, as if blood itself lived inside the steel.
Ashblade.
The black sword with red markings pulsed once, the sound like a heartbeat.
