Chapter 113 - Dungeon - XXI
Time... ceased to exist.
Sound vanished, as if the world itself had held its breath.
Suspended droplets—blood, acid, fragments of liquid darkness—floated around like tiny satellites orbiting a cosmic event. The air trembled with the power on the verge of being released.
Aeloria was frozen. Not from fear, but from reverence.
Beside him, Dália was no longer just a mage. She had become something even the eldest of her kind would hesitate to name. Sweat dripped down her sharp face, but he didn't blink. A part of him wanted to scream. The other... could only watch.
Across the marsh, Dórian and Seraphine held their breath.
"What is she doing?" Seraphine whispered, her voice dragging as if afraid to disturb the moment.
"That... isn't water," Dórian replied.
His hand clenched tightly around the shield made from locust carapace, eyes wide and fixed on the golden light beginning to form across the swamp.
Dália's body trembled.
But not from fear.