The ground beneath Nova's boots no longer felt like the jagged roughness of stone. It was pulsing faintly, a tenderness that felt erotic, as if the entire continent was aware of each step he took.
Every time he moved, the terrain adjusted itself. The hills shifted imperceptibly, ridges straightened, and the horizon widened, like a great organism rearranging its bones for its newest nerve.
Lunaris clung to his shoulder, quiet, alert, its tail twitching like a metronome to the land's rhythm. The cat's eyes gleamed faintly gold, reflecting a sky that couldn't decide what color it wanted to be.
The air thickened with mana until it became visible, mist-like currents flowing through the air, forming ribbons of luminescence. When Nova inhaled, he could feel each strand slide into his lungs, resonating with the mark on his chest.
