The sunrise over Okutama was a cold, jagged line of gold that failed to warm the stone porch of the shrine. Ren Hanshin sat still, the Kusanagi-Vessel resting across his lap. His breathing was so shallow it barely stirred the frost in the air. Inside his mind, the battlefield was silent, but the numbers were screaming.
[Divine Mana: 150 / 150]
[Synchronization: 49.91%]
He was operating on a razor's edge. His mana pool, once a vast ocean during the draft, had been compressed. It was pure, but far more volatile. One hundred and fifty points of Divine Mana. It sounded like so little, but each point held the weight of a collapsing star. The problem was the cost. Using a single high-tier skill now would drain him to zero in seconds, and when the mana ran out, the Weaver's synchronization would fill the void.
