Deep within the dense jungle, Moga stood before a towering bonfire that hadn't ignited yet. His eyes glistened with excitement as he prepared to unleash a technique he had learned from Baktou when he was under Moga's arrest.
Moga's underlings gathered around the bonfire noticing the strange nature. They watched with apprehension as he began to rub two dried twigs like a madman. Fear etched on their faces, they awaited the spectacle that was about to unfold.
"What is he doing?" One of Moga's underlings questioned.
"Do you remember the light we saw when we invaded this place? Moga is trying to recreate that light," Another man replied.
With the mastery he had acquired from Baktou's words, Moga summoned a spark using the dried twigs. It danced and flickered before his amazed eyes, eventually erupting into a roaring flame that lit up the night. Gasps of astonishment escaped from the lips of the onlookers.
