The training room was silent as Albedo stood in the center, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows while he stared at the Heart.
It thumbed slowly, yet it consistently released an almighty spiritual and mana pressure in the environment. It was warping the environment as well, the heat was constantly rising, and Albedo could feel the raw power of the original owner of the heart as well.
Even so long after its death, the heart had an aura of nobility and power. It was easily on the level on Raphaeline's aura.
After taking a deep breath, Albedo raised a dagger.
It wasn't ornate. Just a surgical blade of mana-steel, gleaming with deadly precision. He pressed the edge against his palm, and without hesitation, dragged it through flesh.
Blood began to drip instantly into the floor, and Albedo began to work. His fingers danced across the floor with fluid practice, not just drawing symbols, but invoking a language older than the Empire itself.
