Adrian rolled his shoulder, grounding his stance. He could feel Leon's presence behind him.
It pushed something fierce awake inside him.
He wanted to show his Lord the reason he'd sworn the vow.
A dozen corrupt beasts circled, sensing the shift. Adrian exhaled, fingers tightening around his shield.
A dark shimmer coiled along its edge, space bending like a curtain about to be pulled aside.
"Black Star Art… Ultimate Form."
****
Normally, an art grew with its practitioner.
Seven ranks meant seven forms; eight ranks, eight forms.
But only two paths could break that rule, absorbing other arts like the Extreme Arts did, or creating an Ultimate Form, a move so refined it detached from rank entirely.
A technique born from compatibility, obsession, and work so brutal it scarred the soul.
Adrian had all three.
Lancelot had been stunned when he created it. Now Adrian intended to show Leon why it existed.
A low pressure rolled out from him.
