Dark chains erupted from Dravak's shadow.
They wrapped around his ankles, his wrists, his torso — coiling tight like living serpents, locking him in place. Dravak's eyes went wide as he tried to move and found himself completely immobilized.
"What the—"
Kael raised his bone blade in the air from a distance. He adjusted his grip, shifting his stance slightly. In his mind, he replayed the image of Damian Astraeon — the way the white-haired prince had held his black sword, the angle of the swing, the proportion of dark energy to physical force.
From what I saw from Damian, this should be just about the right proportion. Right amount of mana. Right stance.
Kael's eyes darkened.
"Okay. Now."
He swung the blade horizontally.
"Dark Slash."
A wave of concentrated darkness screamed across the arena. A crescent of black light that cut through the air with a sound like tearing silk.
Dravak panicked.
