The roar of fire exploded forward.
Gasps cracked through the crowd like a wave breaking against rock. Knights, squires, and even the generals were left wide-eyed as flames surged from Luke's outstretched palms, spearing toward Commander Alec with unforgiving speed. It was reckless. Dangerous. And most of all, it looked like an attempt to kill.
This was supposed to be a duel—a test of measure, not a declaration of war.
And yet, here was Luke, aiming straight for the commander's face.
"What is he doing?" someone whispered in horror.
"He's lost his mind!" said another.
But General Haris, despite the surprise, didn't move an inch. His gaze sharpened. He understood something the others didn't.
Luke didn't want to win.
He didn't want to kill.
He wanted Commander Alec to believe.
To see.
To understand.
