The battle raged within the ruined fortress, the air thick with dust, blood, and searing magic.
Despite his irritation, Kido had no choice but to throw himself into the melee alongside the son of the Cursed Serpent. The latter, intoxicated by the violence, carved a bloody path through the enemy ranks with inhuman brutality.
His black staff floated in the air before returning to his hand, shifting into a long, slender sword—so sharp it seemed capable of slicing through reality itself. He launched into the fray, moving with the grace of a dancer, a sight both mesmerizing and lethally efficient.
With every strike, a guttural laugh rose from his throat—a sinister jubilation that sent chills down the spines of his enemies while fueling the frenzy of those fighting beside him.
