"You should be proud of yourself," Fyren said, distancing himself from Luke. "Few have come as far as you have in these last few weeks. Almost, I think, I wouldn't mind it being known that I trained you."
Luke tightened his grip on his sword, his focus never wavering. He moved slowly, feet flowing over each other in a graceful dance, never giving the demon an opening.
"But I think it's time we end this," Fyren said, raising his sword vertically into the air.
I gasped, fingers curling into fists as the demon's soul erupted with mana, whipping the air of the arena into a frenzy. Streams of molten fire twined around him, gathering on the edge of his sword. In the blink of an eye, his blade glowed with molten light, filled with so much mana the barriers flared, groaning beneath its weight. It happened too quickly, gathering from nothing to full power in the space of a single heartbeat.
