Kael stood still, his body unmoving, but his face—his face told another story.
It twisted as if he were fighting something not outside, but within. A silent war, invisible to the eye, was raging between him and a force buried deep inside. His fists clenched, his breathing turned shallow, and veins pulsed across his face with growing violence.
Then it happened.
A surge erupted from beneath him.
The floor cracked as a dense, roaring black river burst forth, flooding the chamber like a beast finally unleashed. Whatever force had been holding Kael back—whatever seal or command—was shattered under the weight of the Black Blood's overwhelming power.
The river writhed and churned, bubbling and twisting in the air. And then, it began to split.
One blade. Ten. A hundred. A thousand.
