> A figure detaches from the shadow of a burnt oak. Usurper Valdris. > He laughs. It sounds like rocks grinding.
> For the first time in a thousand corrupted cycles, the sword does not fall. swords and souls hacked no flash
Kael’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. In the old days, Valdris would have erupted in a corona of black flame, his sword a smear of violet light. Now, there was nothing. Only the cold math of the simulation. > A figure detaches from the shadow of a burnt oak