A full year passed in the blink of an eye.
For Lucien, it was both long and fleeting. It was a year spent not in conquest but in refinement.
Every day was dedicated to perfection. He dismantled his old techniques and rebuilt them from their essence, rethinking every strike and spell until they resonated with the natural rhythm of the world.
He no longer fought to overpower, he fought to understand. And in that understanding, his blade began to move like thought and his magic flowed like breath.
Morphis, too, had changed. The Soul Core of the Ancient Dragon had fused into its being.
It awakened something that should not have existed in any mortal-made weapon.
Morphis now carried within it the lifeblood of dragons. When Lucien wielded it, his movements drew afterimages that devoured magic and mended his body simultaneously.
...