The underground chamber of the secret residence was silent, save for the low, thrumming vibration of mana that seemed to emanate from the very stones of the earth. The air was cool, smelling of damp earth and the ozone tang of high-density magic. Alaric stood in the center of a complex array carved into the bedrock, holding a platinum disc etched with microscopic runes that pulsed with a faint, rhythmic light, like the heartbeat of a sleeping titan.
He wasn't just building a transport array; he was planting a venomous seed deep within the fertile soil of the Celestial Dragon Empire.
"Steady," Alaric murmured, his voice cutting through the hum of power. "Feed the ley-line connection slowly. If we force it, the spatial backlash will turn this entire valley into a crater."
