Chapter 72: Cliffs Edge
The cohort stared at Lucy, faces painted in confusion. He didn’t know whether it was because they had just found him crying... or because he’d effortlessly slaughtered a magical beast three times the size of the last one.
The air around him remained heavy. Fog clung to the bone-white forest like a second skin, curling around their ankles and pooling in the shadows between the twisted trees. The corpse of the fogged wolf still steamed at his feet, its black ichor soaking into the silver grass.
A manual flickered to life in the back of his mind—its ethereal pages whispering across his thoughts.
Illusionary Fog – Page 1/42
He didn’t bother with it.
Caelgorr wouldn’t live long enough for Lucy to master the damn thing.
"You took that thing on all by yourself, wyrmling?" Gindu asked, stepping forward. His eyes narrowed beneath his jagged brow. His battle-worn scales shimmered faintly in the filtered light. Through the still-active soul thread, Lucy sensed the burn of envy—and underneath that, a sharp stab of self-disappointment.
"I did," Lucy said flatly. His voice was distant, heavy. The illusion lingered at the edges of his thoughts like a bruise on the soul.
Still, the others were watching. He couldn’t let their morale break, not now. So he forced a grin, sharp and hollow.
"He would’ve been no match for Gindu the Mighty Warrior, though."
That made the drake chuckle, deep and gravelly. Lucy felt a swell of pride bloom inside Gindu like a kindled flame.