~Laurent The first scream sliced through the night before my feet even touched the enemy village. I didn’t remember running. One second, I was standing beside Calista on the ridge. The next, I was at the heart of the chaos — fists already blood-soaked, breath steady, mind frighteningly calm. Firelight flickered across shattered huts and broken fences. Shadows twisted violently as the battle raged. The air tasted like metal and dust. And I was leading the charge. Elves from Eldoria stormed past me, shouting war cries, releasing arrows, swinging blades — but most of the enemies fell before they even reached the ground. Because my hands had already touched them. ⸻ A creature lunged at me, jaws split in a glowing snarl. Its skin was scaled, flecked with deep red veins. I didn’t think. I didn’t brace. My body simply moved. A simple step to the side. A palm to its throat. A flick of my wrist. The creature snapped backward like a broken puppet, spine bending

~Laurent Our collision wasn’t loud — it was violent in a way sound couldn’t contain. His claws met my forearm. My fist met his ribs. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the hall, rattling stone pillars and sending dust spiraling. He slid back two steps. I slid back five. I steadied myself. “So you’re not completely useless,” he said. “And you’re not as big as I remember,” I replied without meaning to. He blurred. One moment his body was still. The next — it was a streak of shadow and gold, carving through the air. His claw slashed toward my throat— I dashed out of the way with inhuman speed. Instinct saving my neck. I dashed back to counter. I reappeared behind him, breath easy. But he was already turning. His backhand slammed into my face. Pain exploded across my jaw as I flew backward, crashing into a stone pillar hard enough to split it. Dust rained down around me. My vision swam. “You’re too predictable,” he said. I staggered out of the rubble, fle

~Laurent The Monarch tore through my soldiers again. And again. And again. His claws sliced shadow. His blasts burned holes through the dark. His roars shook the hall until dust rained from the rafters. But every time he ripped one apart, another rose. Every time he disintegrated a dozen, a dozen more reformed. He yelled something — I didn’t care enough to listen. I was watching him too closely. The way his shoulders twitched before he attacked. The micro-hesitation in his left step. The way his breathing tightened with every new swing. He was slowing down. Not visibly. Not to anyone normal. But to me? It was obvious. His aura flickered at the edges. His strikes lacked the perfect sharpness they had minutes ago. And his roars? They were starting to sound frustrated. Good. Let him drown in it. I just stood there, arms at my sides, letting the shadows crawl lazily around my ankles. My army shielded me completely, a living barricade of memory-made flesh that reg