The Afterglow of a Slain King
Victor remained where he stood.
The cavern was still trembling faintly from the aftermath of the battle. Broken stone lay scattered like fallen stars. The immense body of the Void Tyrant Hydra was dissolving, its colossal frame unraveling into threads of mana that shimmered like drifting mist.
He did not move.
He simply stood there, breathing slowly, savoring the echo of it all.
That fight—
It had been real.
For the first time in ages, he had needed everything. Calculation. Instinct. Blood. Resolve. Even then, victory had not been guaranteed.
The uncertainty.
The edge between survival and death.
The thrill that once defined him in another lifetime—
He had almost forgotten it.
Back when he had been Anos, such exhilaration was common. Battle after battle. Challenge after challenge. But time had dulled that sensation.
Until now.
A faint smile touched his pale lips.
Then—
Something changed.
