The secluded training ground was silent except for the sound of controlled breathing.
Ethan stood at the center of the chamber, bare-chested with his feet firmly planted on the rune-etched floor.
Sweat rolled down his body in thin streams, but before it could reach the ground, it evaporated into faint mist. The air around him trembled slightly, warped by the pressure of his presence, as if the space itself was struggling to stay calm.
He raised his hand slowly.
Darkness gathered around his fingers like living smoke. It twisted and curled, responding to his will with eerie obedience. With a subtle turn of his wrist, the darkness spread outward, coating the air in a thin, wavering veil. At the same moment, golden light bloomed from his other hand. It was sharp, pure, and steady, cutting cleanly through the shadows without resistance.
The two forces did not clash nor did not reject each other.
Ethan tried to mix them but they didn't mixed
Then Ethan felt it.
