Teravik glanced at the numerous symbols, but this time, her confidence seemed different.
What once looked like trophies of power now felt like accusations carved into stone, each glyph silently mocking the path she had taken.
She was shocked after having heard the message of Varessa.
The calm authority in Varessa's voice, the certainty with which she spoke of deception, had struck deeper than any insult Teravik had ever endured.
The magical recording had shattered and turned to dust as lightning energy destroyed it.
The fragments did not fall gently; they crackled and burned away midair, as if the Tower itself refused to let such knowledge linger longer than necessary.
She turned toward the images.
The symbols pulsed faintly, reacting not to her mana but to her attention.
"These ways to create a Birth Spark?!" She marveled.
The words escaped her lips before she could restrain them, disbelief and awe mixing into something dangerously close to despair.
