Elsewhere in Druven, Vekta floated high above a tower. His eyes glowed as he raised his hand, ready to crush the structure below with invisible air pressure.
But then—
A soft whisper brushed past his ear.
A hand tapped his back.
Cyran Kade stood behind him, silent as a shadow.
"You forgot to watch the darkness," he said quietly.
"Shouldn't have floated so high," Cyran added, already fading out of sight.
Vekta spun around, startled—bam!
A dark, shadowy strike hit his spine. He stumbled in the air, losing focus. Before he could recover, the very air around him seemed to vanish—stolen by another of Cyran's attacks.
Vekta plummeted, crashing onto a rooftop below.
Cyran landed softly beside him, calm and still like the night itself.
"No footsteps. No mercy," he said, his voice as quiet as a breeze. "That's how I teach my students."
Vekta tried to get up, but Cyran phased through him like a ghost and struck his ribs. CRACK! Vekta slammed into a wall.
