Chapter 27
The world cracked open in a storm of black and violet.
A flash—faster than sound.
A blur of shadow and wrath.
Xavier Quinn shot forward like a cursed comet, his sword sheathed in writhing dark mana, miasma curling off his body in waves. The ground beneath him detonated from the sheer force of his launch—air bent, stone split, debris erupted like shrapnel.
Ezra Celestrian didn't move. Didn't blink.
With a quiet step to the side, he let the strike pass, his coat swaying lazily, untouched by the chaos. Then—without flourish—he pivoted and delivered a sharp kick to Xavier's ribs.
Not enough to injure. Just enough to insult.
Xavier snarled, twisting mid-air, his blade carving a vicious arc.
Ezra had already leapt back. Light-footed. Effortless.
From his spatial ring, his sword shimmered into his hand—moon-silver steel glowing faintly violet, like it remembered the stars.
CLANG.
The clash rang out like thunder.
A shockwave detonated outward.
