Kaden's breath came in shallow gasps as he lay staring up at the distorted sky of the Arkon Expanse. The blood-soaked ground beneath him was cold, but his body burned with a mix of exhaustion and renewed vitality. Flecks of ash drifted down from the twisted canopy above, mixing with the dried blood that covered his torn clothing. The metallic scent of combat still hung heavy in the air, mingling with the peculiar, acrid smell that always seemed to permeate this cursed place.
Slowly, he sat up, every muscle in his body screaming in protest. The system had healed his physical wounds, but the mental toll of the battle lingered like a shadow. His hands trembled slightly – not from fear or weakness, but from the aftermath of channeling so much demonic energy through his body. The black veins that had spread so far during the fight had receded to their usual pattern, but they still pulsed with residual power.
