Chapter 63: Cursed Statue
The sky above them was awash with deep purples and molten gold, like a spilled painting stretching from one jagged horizon to the other. The sun hovered just overhead, casting long, surreal shadows that danced over the cracked stone path winding eastward.
Bonewhite trees lined the road, their translucent leaves whispering in the wind, delicately rustling like glass chimes in a distant temple. The air was crisp and dry, carrying the faint scent of ozone and something wilder—an animalistic musk that clung faintly to the breeze, warning of danger yet unseen.
Lucy walked near the group’s center, flanked by Bruma’s quiet strength and Gindus’ confident frame. Llarm moved with lazy grace, wind curling playfully around his fingers, while Eri glided like a shadow, watchful, silent, constantly scanning. And at the front, tail high and eyes alert, padded Carlos, their newest member. The little shadow wolf pup trotted beside Fenric, ears twitching, nose to the air, ever hunting for threats only he could smell.
It had been a month since the battle with the shadow wolves, and two months since the fog of desperation and blood. Since then, Lucy had done almost nothing but train.
He mercilessly pushed himself, circulating his mana with every breath and heartbeat, refusing to rest even in sleep. He dove deeper into his abilities, not content with knowing—he wanted mastery.
There were three skills he had honed in on. First: wind manipulation. Second: atomic radiation. And third: Crucible of Grace.
Luckily, he had Llarm—a reluctant but effective tutor for wind.
"Just have it lift you, like this!" Llarm grinned, bounding into the air with ease. Wind spiraled around his ankles as he took off, soaring a few meters up before swooping past Fenric and Carlos like a leaf on a breeze.
"Zoom..Whoosh!" he added with childlike delight as he circled back and landed lightly on the stones. "See? Easy! Just like that!"
Lucy stared, unamused. His eye twitched.
’Zoom and whoosh, huh? Very helpful.’