The next fight almost killed him.

  Not because the enemy was stronger—but because Kaelis overcommitted. He pushed Grav Pulse too hard, too fast, and the backlash knocked him off balance. The creature capitalized instantly.

  Pain flared. Sharp. Real.

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  Kaelis forced himself to stop attacking.

  Instead, he waited.

  One step. One shift. One precise Shadow Step at the right moment. Twilight Spark flared once—clean, controlled.

  The creature fell.

  Kaelis collapsed to one knee, breathing hard. His sigil dimmed, not in failure, but in correction. It had allowed the mistake—but not twice.

  That was when Kaelis understood: perfection wasn’t about power. It was about restraint refined through failure.

  He stood slowly, scarred but alive, and continued onward.