Adrian sat in the heart of the forest, surrounded by the hum of insects and the endless green.
He had settled himself on a moss-covered boulder, tangled roots of nearby trees curling around its base like old guardians.
His eyes were closed, his mind stripped of all noise. No thoughts of runesmithing, no faces, no plans—just silence. Just focus.
He knew the truth now. With his current strength, he would burn out too quickly to leave any real mark in a serious fight.
The problem was clear: his mana kept spilling out, slipping through his grasp like water through open fingers. Because of it, he always had to fight smart—keeping his revolver close, striking fast, and ending battles before his reserves bled dry.
But that approach wouldn't work anymore.
He wasn't just preparing for another fight. He was preparing for war—against one of the two great demonic factions.
