Damian felt this phenomenon pressing against his skin, and he watched with enhanced perception as the misty Mana floated toward both him and Uncle Adam.
But for Uncle Adam, even more was flowing in.
The old warrior did not even seem to realize what was happening. He was lost in this battle, lost in the joy of sparring with his Young Lugal after eight years of protecting a boy who could not fight back. Lost in the dance that they had created together in this clearing on the slopes of the Roaring Stone Mountain.
Waves of blue misty Mana flowed into him in torrents.
The air around Uncle Adam began to feel heavier, weighted with power that pressed against Damian's senses. The old warrior's taut muscles began to shine with greater intensity, the tendrils of Mana beneath his skin growing brighter and more defined.
And he fought with even greater fervor.
