The air around the courtyard had shifted.
Liam now stood firm before Khan, his body relaxed yet emanating quiet power. He slowly flexed his left hand, the one that had been tightly bandaged until moments ago. The movement was stiff at first, his fingers curling and stretching as the blood surged back into his joints. He rotated his wrist once, then twice, letting the wind kiss skin that hadn't been exposed since he was injured.
Khan stared at him with a storm of emotions boiling beneath his mask—confusion, frustration, disbelief, and above all, unfiltered rage.
Just minutes ago, he had been dominating Lilith, pushing her back with every move, with confidence that bordered on arrogance. But now the dynamic had shifted. Liam stood in her place, silent, composed… unbothered. His presence alone was enough to ignite unease among the onlookers.
"Don't stand there like you've already won," Khan spat through gritted teeth. "I'm going to rip that smug look off your face."
