Prince Ford POV
If I hadn't been standing there, boots sinking slightly into warm ash, lungs still tasting sulfur, I would have called it madness. Actually… even with me standing there, it still qualified as madness. Lady Seraphine stood before a magma Titan. Not charging it. Not commanding it. Talking to it. She was too calm and too focused. Like she was coaxing a skittish horse instead of addressing a walking apocalypse made of lava and death.
And somehow, somehow, the Titan listened. I dragged a hand down my face, exhaling slowly. All right. Let's review.
The moment Seraphine found even a sliver of a clue, just a hint, that Sir Alex Canva, a knight of Nothingwood (whoever that lucky bastard was), might be here, inside this cursed volcano… I knew what I was signing up for.
