The clang of steel against steel echoed through the spacious training room, a rhythmic beat punctuated by the soldiers' grunts. Killian moved like a shadow, his blade a blur of silver as he sparred with his elite guards, whom he had personally bought from the black market and trained.
Sweat dripped down his brow, mirroring the internal storm raging within him. He swung his sword, the steel singing through the air, but the practiced movements felt hollow, lacking the usual precision and grace. His soldiers watched him with concern, their faces etched with worry.
Killian was a renowned warrior, the great god of war, and his skills were unmatched. Yet today, something was off. He didn't seem like his usual self.
