Rama kept moving like a force of nature, his flaming blade carving through stone and ash.
The ground was littered with fragments of shattered stone warriors, their limbs strewn across the battlefield in burning ruin.
Every attack he made burned with fire. He had become something different now.
From the edge of the chaos, Caedryn still watched him.
That faint enigmatic smile never left his lips. His eyes didn't blink. They studied Rama not with surprise but also with recognition. No one else noticed it and saw the faint glint in his gaze as if watching a prophecy unfold before his eyes.
Then, Larsen looked toward Rama too. His expression tightened.
That power had to be from the armor. But the armor was from this ruin, which was the Velmire's lost past. If it truly was a relic meant for a Velmire then why hadn't he felt anything? Why had it responded to Rama?
He didn't understand it.
