The Saint Fist wielder, rightly and marvelously mighty.
With a mind unified in purpose, moving and resting as if a Saint of the Fist.
When Casio saw the pristine Water Bird, everything around him seemed like a scroll whose ink had faded to blankness, leaving only the soaring silhouette of the Water Bird imprinted deeply upon it. Suddenly, three adjectives flooded his mind: elegant, majestic, and tinged with a hint of brutality.
Yes, brutality.
Beneath that gentlemanly and refined exterior lurked a body akin to a monstrous beast. The occasionally revealed, faint aura was chilling, evoking both reverence and fear. Those who isolate themselves are either beasts or deities. And now, the Water Bird seemed like both, embodying both animalistic and divine traits simultaneously.
