The skies above the Will Citadel darkened—not with storm clouds, but with power. The Spirit Beasts stood silently along the perimeter. Queen Ashtora, Urrandel, and the tribal elders had gathered at the edge of the Grand Altar Plateau, their breaths held.
Ethan stood alone at the center, barefoot, eyes closed, and arms gently raised to the skies.
From his back, two sigils blazed—one glowing white-gold, shaped like a radiant sunburst (Creation), and the other a deep green-violet, shaped like a spiraling helix (Alchemy).
A low hum filled the air.
The very fabric of the Will Planes began to respond.
"This land has given me sanctuary, loyalty, and strength," Ethan whispered, his voice echoing into the mountains and valleys. "Now, let me return the favor."
His foot tapped once on the ground, and the earth trembled.
Then it began.
Golden veins of light shot from beneath Ethan's feet, streaking through the soil like glowing rivers. Wherever they passed, the land bloomed.
