The carriage rumbled through the deepening shadows of the northern woodlands.
The landscape here was different from the human empire. The trees were colossal, ancient redwoods and silver-barks that towered hundreds of feet into the air, their canopies blotting out most of the sun. The air was crisp and smelled of pine and old magic.
Inside, the atmosphere was heavy.
Damien sat with his arms crossed, eyes closed, his breathing rhythmic but shallow. To an observer, he looked asleep.
In reality, he was walking a tightrope. He was circulating his mana and aura simultaneously, forcing two opposing power systems to coexist within his meridians.
The Dual-Core state was powerful, but volatile. Every minute he held it was a minute his meridians screamed in protest.
"Stabilization is at 15%," he noted inwardly.
"If I push it to 100% output for more than five minutes, my body will tear itself apart. I need more endurance. Or more DP."
