The Ruined Expanse shook violently as the shadowed figure advanced, the corrupted energy around him pulsing like a living storm. Lightning and wind danced across Eryndor's body, but the figure moved faster than thought, faster than anticipation itself.
Lyanna was forced back by a sweeping claw attack, her boots scraping the cracked stone as she barely managed to dodge. Eryndor's eyes followed the figure—its form shifting, elemental energy flaring unpredictably.
And then it struck.
Faster than his eyes could track, the figure speed-blitzed him, landing a strike to his chest that sent him tumbling backward, wind and debris scattering with the force of impact. His lightning surged instinctively, but even Ember Tier power wasn't enough to counter the sheer speed and brutality of the attack.
As he fell, Eryndor's mind spun—not just with combat strategy, but with something far sharper. The truth of human nature flickered into his thoughts.
Even though his original family had been extraordinary, had survived impossible trials, and had left a legacy of knowledge and technique—not everyone would be loyal. Not everyone meant him well. There were snakes waiting in the grass, hiding beneath smiles, under the guise of assistance.
He remembered flashes—vague recollections from Earth, the bitter lessons about trust, greed, corruption, and betrayal. How could he have forgotten so quickly that power attracts both allies and predators?
Lyanna's voice shouted from somewhere above, urgent and sharp, but her words barely registered as Eryndor felt himself crash into the ground, sparks of lightning scattering like embers around him. Pain exploded through his body, but it wasn't just physical. It was a blow to his understanding of the world.
He forced himself to breathe through the impact, consciousness flickering like a candle in the wind. Thoughts raced: I don't know the full truth about my family. I don't know why I'm here. I don't know who to trust. Yet… I'm expected to survive this? To fight this?
The figure loomed over him, energy crackling dangerously, eyes glowing like molten storms. Eryndor's instincts screamed: flight wasn't an option. Survival wasn't optional. But clarity… clarity would have to come from within.
As he struggled to rise, wind and lightning coiling faintly around his limbs, he clenched his teeth and thought: Even without the full truth, even without knowing everyone's intentions… I'll fight. I'll adapt. I'll survive. And I won't forget again.
Then, the figure struck again, the world narrowing to speed, impact, and survival.
Eryndor crashed into the stone, consciousness wavering—but deep inside, a spark ignited: the storm within him wasn't just Ember Tier power. It was knowledge, instinct, and the growing awareness of the corruption that lurked in every corner of both this world and the human heart.
He had fallen—but the storm was far from over.