Zenaya stood frozen for several long breaths, her crimson eyes locked on the massive owl as though it were a dream that might fade if she blinked.
The forest still trembled faintly from the force of its earlier rise, loose dirt sliding down from broken roots, leaves fluttering down in slow spirals around its towering frame.
She had seen it buried.
She had felt Noir's mana crush down upon it like a mountain.
She knew the weight behind that attack, knew the depth of that power.
And yet here it stood.
Alive.
Not crawling.
Not barely breathing.
Alive and glaring.
Her fingers tightened at her sides. "This… is impossible," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It took Noir's full strike head on. I saw the pressure. I felt it in my bones. That was not something a mere blood beast should endure."
The owl tilted its head slightly, its golden-red eyes narrowing as if amused.
