Zain stood still.
His arm was scratched. His shoulder ached. But he didn't move.
Ahead, the Sword Emperor floated gently back to the ground.
His feet didn't make a sound as they touched the dust.
He looked at Zain with sharp, calm eyes.
"So this is what replaced me?" the Sword Emperor said.
"A broken boy playing with power he doesn't understand?"
Zain said nothing.
The Heavenly Demon let out a short laugh.
"Look at you," he said, stepping forward with slow, heavy steps.
"Still standing like you're someone important."
He tilted his head.
"Still acting like you belong in this art. In this title."
Zain's fingers twitched slightly, but he kept them at his sides.
"You think stealing the Heavenly Demon Art makes you worthy of it?" the old man said.
"You were just a tool. A lost dog I pulled from the mud."
The Sword Emperor joined in.
"Even now, your posture is off. Your breathing's uneven. You don't carry the weight of the blade."
