Before Ash could say anything, Dark Ash's voice broke through the tense silence with fierce intensity, loud enough to shake the air around them.
His words were sharp and commanding, filled with the raw force of someone who refused to be ignored any longer.
"DO I LOOK LIKE A SIDE CHARACTER HERE?!"
The statement was not just a shout; it was a voice that demanded recognition.
Upon hearing this, the man slowly turned his eyes toward Dark Ash, his gaze grew sharper as he took in the sight before him.
Dark Ash's entire body was wrapped in a thick, malevolent black aura that seemed alive.
This aura was not simply dark energy or ordinary mana; it was the very embodiment of hatred itself, a hatred so deep and powerful that it had taken on a tangible form.
This was a hatred that had been nurtured and fed by endless silence, despair, and pain.
