Damain's finger moved through the air with deliberate precision, leaving thin crimson runes hanging in the space before him while his other hand held a thick, leather bound red tome against his side.
The study was almost completely silent except for the faint scratching sound produced whenever his finger completed another complicated symbol.
Dozens of books were scattered across his desk and several more had been piled on the floor around him, some opened to pages covered in ancient demonic script while others contained diagrams of formations, seals and spell structures.
He had been sitting in this room for most of the night, and the evidence of his exhaustion was becoming impossible to hide. His normally composed hair was disheveled, dark circles had formed beneath his eyes and his complexion had become noticeably paler.
Even his movements had lost some of their usual ease, yet his concentration remained absolute.
