The Chaos Prince's body twisted in a way that defied anatomy. His broken ribs shifted, his shattered bones realigned just enough, and he flowed like water around Northern's next strike.
His eyes narrowed as he backpedaled, void essence swirling around his feet to propel him across the sand.
Northern didn't give him space—he pressed his advantage immediately, his expression unchanging.
The Chaos Prince's hands moved in complex patterns, weaving void essence like thread. Symbols formed in the air—ancient sorcerous signs that predated the Shattering itself.
Northern flinched, struck by a sudden premonition. Of course, he knew this wasn't premonition at all—his intuition was prophecy.
The void essence condensed into seven rotating rings around the Chaos Prince's body. Each ring hummed with a different frequency, and as they spun faster, reality began to distort.
"Seventh Circle Binding: Empty Throne."
