Seeing Feylora firmly take control of the fight, the tightness in Ethan's chest eased a notch.
This battlefield didn't need him personally stepping in anymore.
His eyes slid off the strange bird and locked onto the distant mountain range.
That white-clad man had fled in that direction.
The mountains felt nothing like the canyon. A dense, concentrated aura shot straight into the sky between the peaks. From far away, you could see the energy in the heavens being tugged, streaming continuously toward the depths of that range.
The light there wasn't dazzling.
It was heavy—oppressively heavy—like a massive energy source was hidden inside the mountain body, inhaling and exhaling the world's power.
Ethan's lips curved slightly. His gaze cut past the purple flames still burning over the canyon and settled on that distant convergence point.
The man in white had run fast, but the trail of his aura hadn't fully dispersed.
