Rebecca's foot tapped against the dark floor with rhythmic irritation, her arms crossed tightly over her voluptuous chest.
Her narrowed, dark red eyes reflected the dark green light emanating from the threads of eerie mana weaving through the air around Asher.
He sat cross-legged on the floor in deep meditation, his body lost in the storm of unnatural energy.
But to Rebecca, he didn't look like a man anymore—more like a specter. His skin and flesh were veiled in darkness, and the intense radiance of the mana lit up the contours of his glowing skeleton like a dying star fighting to be reborn.
A sight both awe-inspiring and infuriating.
"It's been more than a week," Rebecca muttered under her breath. Her voice grew sharper as she turned, "Just how long is he going to be like this?"
Her gaze landed on the figure that stood lifelessly to the side, unmoving as a statue—Skully. His black staff was embedded into the ground beside him, his eye sockets dim and unreadable.
