Asher seated solemnly in the heart of the training chamber, the Tome of Fallen Souls spread open before him.
The page was aglow with mystical runes, each one pulsating with an eerie light that seemed to beckon him into the depths of an ancient and perilous power.
He knew that what lay ahead was a grueling ordeal, a test of both will and strength. As he prepared to etch the runes into his mana circuit, a sense of foreboding washed over him, yet his determination remained unshaken.
He began the meticulous process, his fingers tracing the intricate symbols.
Each rune seemed to vibrate against his skin, sending a jolt of energy coursing through his body. As the last rune was etched, the world around him started to distort, blurring at the edges until he was enveloped in a swirling vortex of darkness.
Abruptly, the tumult ceased, and Asher found himself standing in an illusory world, a realm of shadows and fire.
Our boi's breath got a tad deadly :#
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