Zane stood still.
Coat torn, posture relaxed, hands loose at his sides—as if the battlefield itself was nothing more than a stage beneath his feet.
Across from him, Dren hovered in the air, pale yellow mana roaring around his twisted form like a storm that refused to calm. The Heart of the Deep Forge pulsed inside his chest, each beat shaking the ground beneath them.
Dren's thoughts spiraled.
What is this…?
I'm using everything. Every drop. Infinite mana.
So why—why is it still not enough…?
His jaw clenched.
No… calm down.
He doesn't have infinite mana like me.
It has to end.
I just have to drag this out.
Drain him.
Then I kill him and leave this place.
From afar, Zane's voice carried—clear, calm, almost bored.
"Sorry, buddy," he said.
"I think your game is finished now."
Dren's eyes snapped up.
Zane continued, his tone sharpening just slightly.
"I'm going to fulfill my promise."
"You remember it, right?"
He took a single step forward.
