The battlefield trembled under the weight of the storm gathering around Lucavion. Captain Eryndor, perched atop a raised platform overseeing the chaos, squinted into the distance, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took in the swirling vortex of mana. The air crackled with energy, carrying with it a sense of inevitability, of something monumental unfolding before them.
His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, though he remained calm. "He's breaking through," Eryndor muttered, his voice barely above a whisper but laden with awe.
Beside him, a younger knight, clad in polished armor, looked on with equal parts curiosity and unease. "Captain… What's happening to that man?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Who is he? Where did he come from?"