The forest seemed to exhale as the crown settled on Rhys's head. Resonance wasn't just a word—the world itself responded. Leaves tilted faintly toward him as if acknowledging his presence. The soil beneath his boots thrummed, alive.
But beyond that… the peaks loomed, belching smoke and shadow. And there, within that haze, something stirred. Even this far away, the air carried a pulse—an oppressive rhythm like the heartbeat of something vast.
Rhys's lips twisted into a tired grin. "Figures."
Bounce huffed, silver glow rising again despite his fatigue. His fur bristled like he was daring the world itself to doubt them.
Puddle gave a sharp kuyuuuu, halos orbiting faster, sparks of black and white flaring in defiance.
"Yeah. I know. We're not backing down." Rhys drew the Verdant Scholar Sword, its emerald runes flickering faintly as the Verdant Crown's resonance linked with it. The power wasn't overwhelming—it was steady, grounding, like roots anchoring him before a storm.
