The masters standing at the valley's edge watched in stunned silence as I descended toward the injured Vikram. Their earlier confidence had been shattered by his supernatural abilities, but now they witnessed something even more extraordinary.
"Impossible," Adrian whispered, his voice carrying across the clearing. "He's completely unaffected by the Azan's most powerful attacks."
Gideon nodded slowly. "Look at how he moves. There's no hesitation, no fear. He's treating this like a routine matter."
Oscar gripped his wooden staff tighter. "I've never seen anyone demonstrate such mastery over multiple disciplines simultaneously."
In the valley below, Vikram struggled to his feet despite his severe burns. His dark robes hung in tatters, and angry red welts covered his exposed skin where my Pure Yang fire had made contact.
"You think you've won?" Vikram snarled, raising his bone scepter with trembling hands. "I still have power you cannot comprehend."
