The earth still quaked under the shockwaves of Seemus and Zalmic's spar. Their fists collided with explosive force, each blow laced with pure Pran energy. Every strike cracked the ground, every counter sent shockwaves rippling across the red sky. It wasn't flashy, no flames or illusions—just raw power clashing head-on, enough to level armies.
Aamir stood with Seenu and Kunal at the rim of the crater, arms folded, crimson eyes following every movement. The corner of his lips curved faintly.
"This is good," he said softly, his voice carrying against the howling wind. "But I think this is enough."
And then—he vanished.
The next instant, Aamir appeared in the very heart of the crater. Seemus's Pran-charged fist surged forward, air splitting around it, while Zalmic's crushing strike cut through the dust with brutal precision. Both roared, their blows seconds from colliding—enough to carve another scar into the land.
But they never landed.
