When Kyran turned 18, his life turned upside down. The Royal Army raided his clan because his supposedly non-existent magic got exposed. On that fateful night, he was the only one who escaped. Up to the present, the status of his clan was unknown. A magic inheritance that became a curse, Kyran became a fugitive. Always on the run... living in fear when the Royal Army finally captures him. At least that's what most people thought... "I'll definitely save my family. And I will make all those who made my clan suffer pay tenfold. I'll make use of this magic they so feared, and show them what real terror is...." Disclaimer: The cover image isn't mine. I'll replace it when I finished mine.
While in the middle of the whirlwind, the Theihorn's eyes narrowed as it sensed the whirlwind getting devoured by the huge fissure in front. The radius of the whirlwind decreased as it went into the fissure.
AHH-WOOO~!
The Theirhorn howled, and its eyes flashed. While opening its fang-filled mouth, the wind converged in front, forming a ball. The ball of wind grew in size, and soon after, the Theihorn aimed at the fissure.
The ball of wind spun crazily, leaving a trail of white draft behind as it flew toward Kyran.
Kyran, who barely absorbed the whirlwind inside his magic, saw the incoming ball of wind. His brow knitted as he gritted his teeth. His magic control had improved but using his magic to absorb another was still exhausting both mentally and physically.
The Theihorn's wind magic appeared to be above the level of the concentrated magic he once absorbed from the Four-colored Array.