The palace receded as he left Cristhalis as if stepping off a balcony. His body leaned, mana spreading through his back, arms, and legs… and, in seconds, Strax simply glided, sustained by magic as if the sky were an old friend offering a ride.
The snow below was a white sea in eternal fury. The wind cut like blades. The temperature was so absurd that any normal creature would have frozen in minutes.
Strax? Strax found it… refreshing.
He took a deep breath, letting the icy air fill his chest.
The energy was there.
Subtle. Creeping. But ancient. So ancient that it made even his draconic blood react like an animal sniffing out foreign territory.
"This is coming from very far away…" he murmured, adjusting the flow of mana and gaining more altitude.
