As he adjusted his breathing, a long column of steam escaped from Desmond's lips. His concentration was being pushed to the limit as his right hand rested on the hilt of his sword. Although Desmond was not a master of Iaijutsu, his drawing technique was far from ordinary. The amount of control Desmond wielded was not something humans could imitate.
Desmond took another deep breath, and it was then that thin strands of emerald green mana and golden mana began to condense and concentrate on the sheathed sword. Desmond's mind was like a calm lake, like an infinite dark sky in eternal peace. But the cosmos never remain quiet; entropy is inevitable, and a star came into existence in that dark sky.
Despite his passive posture, Desmond gave off a terrifying pressure that intimidated even Aisha. "He seems like a different person." Aisha thought.
