Kael didn't move at first.
The runic sphere spun above him, threads of pure spiritual force arcing in all directions. It was chaotic—frenzied—like a beast trying to tear itself apart. The formation had a will now, and that will wasn't passive.
It wanted to overwhelm him.
"No… It's not just trying to scare me." His eyes narrowed.
It was testing synchronization. If the first phase was about tuning in, this was about alignment—dancing to its rhythm while directing the flow.
Kael clenched his fists, arms trembling from exertion. His essence core remained sealed. There was no fallback. No cheat. Just him, his senses, and whatever fragments of instinct hadn't been dulled by the suppression.
The first stray thread lashed toward his head.
He didn't dodge. He stepped forward and then pivoted a single half-turn, letting it glide past him.
'It's like sword forms…' his eyes brightened at the realization.
