Every single bit of what could have been called Theron's personality seemed to vanish in that moment. Or at the very least, anything these people had known him to be.
Sharp and focused, his smile vanished, a cold chill radiating from his gaze. It was as though the moment he had forced Bylo into battle, he no longer needed the façade.
Against an opponent like Blackmaul, he could jeer, laugh, poke fun. But against a Second Resonance Touching Cloud Mancer? It was impossible.
Yet, there was no hesitation in his step or dullness in his strike.
It only took a split moment for Theron to feel the gap in speed, in power, in technique.
Bylo swept down, meeting him from a higher position. He stepped on the air as though it was ground, his stance shifting as though a bolt of lightning descending from the skies above.
Theron had already formed [Shadow Flush] around him, his disciple robes lengthening into pools of Dark Mana that stretched from his body like fabric flapping in the wind.
