Chapter 85
Moments passed after their discussion.
Now his father stood in the testing grounds, a regular sword held in his hand. Nothing special. No enchantments. No runes.
Just steel.
He moved.
The blade wove through the air with intense grace—each stroke deliberate, each cut precise. Creatures surrounded him: aliens, behemoths, things grown in vats and programmed to kill. He diced through them like a chef slicing vegetables.
On each body, as the blade passed, a strange pattern appeared.
Not random. Deliberate. The geometry of the wounds told a story that Dax was only beginning to read.
From above, Dax watched with intense focus.
My god. He's better than expected. Even with a regular blade.
He tilted his head in deep thought.
Should I increase the intensity?
He didn't wait. His mind won.
The testing ground hummed. The creatures multiplied, increasing the pressure.
