The crowd of Regalons below the great living tree buzzed with restrained tension — the aftermath of Marcus's overwhelming victory still rippled through the branches like thunder in slow motion.
Noah landed gracefully upon the wooden platform.
Before him stood Lorak, the second Quasic Demon brother. His body shimmered faintly like glass polished to perfection, wings woven from translucent crystal, horns curling backward in jagged arcs. His weapon, a curved saber forged of shifting, mirrored metal, reflected not just light, but intent.
"Another young one?" Lorak asked, tilting his head. His eyes gleamed silver.
Noah drew his sword from the air. A sleek, double-edged greatsword crafted from exotic steel, its edge faintly glowing blue as it hummed with wind and lightning.
Then he moved.
A flash of azure light tore through the arena as Noah lunged, cutting the distance between them in less than a heartbeat. His greatsword swung in a tight arc, the air behind it roaring.
