"Come out, Kael!"
Ricky's voice rang out—not with mere volume, but with authority. It boomed like thunder cracking through the skies, reverberating in the spiritual fields of everyone present. It wasn't a request. It was a summons.
Far into the depths of the Emerald Green Kingdom's territory, space itself twisted unnaturally, then peeled apart like ancient curtains opening onto a stage. From the rift stepped a lone figure—serene, poised, and razor-sharp in presence.
Clad in modest green robes that fluttered slightly in the wind, the man's appearance was deceptively plain. Yet his very aura carved through the air like the edge of a blade honed over centuries. His eyes, calm and deep as a still forest lake, concealed storms of calculation and pride.
But every so often, that veil slipped, and a glint of aristocratic arrogance flashed in his gaze—undeniable, like the sun glinting off a sword's edge.
There was no mistaking his identity.
