"What a powerful Martial arts technique!" Ethan exhaled, awe threading through the calm of his mind.
Before him, the scene unfolded like a tempest of shadow and fire—a martial art not born of mortal men, but of demonic clans.
Each movement of the wielder was infused with dark, potent energy, dripping with the essence of an ancient, troubled bloodline. The incandescent tendrils of black and crimson swirled in fierce harmony, saturating the air with malice and raw power.
Yet, beneath the mesmerizing dance, Ethan's insight pierced the veil of demonic vigor. For all the formidable aura, the martial art—the fabled Black Mist Hand—drew its strength from two sources: the primordial essence of energy and the lifeblood that coursed through the wielder.
