Icarus remained standing.
The cut across his abdomen refused to seal, its edges faintly darkened where the residue of [Morgain's Verdict] lingered like a stain that would not fade. His core pulsed again, harder this time, violet light flaring beneath his ribs as he forced mana through damaged channels. The regeneration responded, but sluggishly, as though something unseen kept tightening around the wound each time it tried to close.
His gaze sharpened.
If pressure would not subside, then it would be overwhelmed.
The air around them dimmed almost imperceptibly as he reinforced [Mana Rot Field]. There was no visible fog, no dramatic surge, yet the ambient mana lost luster, like embers deprived of oxygen. At the same time, [Vector Spread] reactivated along every prior contact point, subtle fractures attempting to awaken beneath Valttair's skin wherever blade and plague had brushed earlier.
Icarus extended his hand.
