Need For Strength—Absolute Strength

The battlefield was steeped in tension, a suffocating weight pressing down on everything as Tatiana and Lucian faced off.

The air itself felt thick, heavy with an unspoken challenge, as if the world had paused to witness this moment between two predators circling each other.

Tatiana stood with an eerie stillness, and with the massive wings of blood unfurled behind her, she was like a reaper made flesh, an angel of death ready to claim her due.

The crimson light from her wings cast long, jagged shadows across the broken ground, making the battlefield look like the entrance to some dark abyss.

Lucian, in contrast, remained utterly relaxed. His posture was loose, his smirk never faltering, but his eyes, those predatory crimson eyes, were sharp, filled with something colder.

He studied Tatiana the way a nobleman might study a wild animal in a cage, not out of fear, but curiosity.