Korvan charged, flames spiraling wildly around him, his body consumed by the reckless power of his Berserk Flame. The ground trembled beneath his feet, the heat searing the air as the inferno closed in. Yet, as I stood there, calm and steady, watching the man before me, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of finality.
Normally, anyone in my position would have tried to escape, to avoid the suicidal charge of someone who had broken through the threshold of a 4-star warrior. The sheer force Korvan was releasing was nothing short of monstrous—he was a man who had pushed himself beyond his limits. But I didn't flinch, didn't waver.
I saw him for what he truly was.
"How sad," I murmured, my voice barely audible beneath the roar of flames. I watched him rush toward me, a storm of rage and destruction, but all I saw was pathetic.
