The battlefield trembled as both figures faced each other, a storm contained in human form. Smoke curled across the scorched plains, ash drifting like muted snow, yet the King's presence made the air dense and alive. Every pulse of mana, every sway of aura, carried weight. Ren's fog coiled, waiting, calculating, aware of each imperfection in the King's rhythm.
Nyxa's voice sliced through the chaos within his mind. "Feel his intent. Not his strength, his confidence. Even a mountain yields under constant pressure. Watch, wait, exploit."
The King moved first, not with haste, but with inevitability. His massive hand struck forward, a fist of raw energy meant to annihilate. Ren anticipated, fog twisting like liquid shadow to absorb and redirect the force. The collision exploded outward, sending shards of rock spinning into the sky. The King did not stagger. Only a faint hesitation in his foot placement revealed the subtle impact.
