Kain's body convulsed as a painful struggled cough forced black blood out of his mouth. The corners of his mouth began to stain dark black due to the amount he had coughed out.
But amidst this torment, a new presence began to seep inside him, a warmth—subtle at first, like a flicker of fire in the cold void.
It spread.
Ophelia's eidra.
Golden and pure, it flowed into him, weaving through his veins that moments go pulsed with painful corruption.
Inside, the warmth battled the suffocating dark void, driving it back inch by inch.
The two forces now raged within him—light against shadow, purity against decay, warmth against cold.
Her eidra did not simply push—it burned, searing away the corrupted filth as it tried to burrow deeper within Kain.
Ophelia's eyes clenched even tighter.
She focused, her palms glowing brighter with every breath as she remembered Amaron's voice, his lessons etched into her mind.
