Suddenly—
just before his body struck the ground—
Logan stopped.
He froze midair for a brief moment, as if an unseen force had yanked him back from the fall at the very last instant.
Then—
he vomited blood violently.
Hot bursts spilled from his mouth, scattering through the air as his chest rose and fell wildly.
But—
even so…
he snorted.
A rough sound… carrying something strange.
Excitement.
His body was collapsing.
His breathing was broken.
His eyes were barely open.
Yet—
he was still fighting.
Slowly—
he began to descend.
This time, he didn't fall.
He lowered himself…
under control.
Until his feet touched the ground.
The moment he steadied himself—
he drew a deep breath.
Long.
As if trying to steal whatever air remained in the world.
Then—
he raised his hand.
From his palm—
a new wave of mist erupted.
Denser.
Heavier.
Darker.
It surged upward—
toward the Third-Rank Master.
It reached him.
And the instant it touched—
the pressure increased.
