The ground was soaked in blood—none of it his own.
Kent stood at the center of a wasteland filled with the remains of beasts from every corner of the realm. His chest heaved, his eyes burned gold, and steam curled from his skin where sweat met residual flame. For what felt like days, he had been hunted, ambushed, clawed, bitten, and buried under waves of savage creatures.
But he endured. No. He evolved.
Yet just as he took his next breath, the world around him went still.
No flame.
No growl.
Not even the hum of mana in the air.
And then—
Crack.
The faintest sound. A dry twig snapping behind him.
Kent's body froze.
He slowly turned, eyes sharp, senses honed from every inch of the last trial. But there was nothing. No beast. No energy. No visible presence. Yet the hair on his neck rose, his skin crawled, and the air felt thick—as if he was being watched by something ancient.
Suddenly, the voice of the Sky Naga echoed through his mind, low and cryptic:
