The frozen turtles could only watch through layers of ice. The Diamond golems remained suspended in Duke's invisible hold. Frost drifted lazily through the air like silent ash.
Isolde knelt before the Core.
For a brief moment, the wind died entirely.
She extended her hand. A single drop of blood formed at the tip of her finger—bright red against the pale dominion of frost. The Core pulsed violently.
It recoiled within its crystalline housing, light flickering erratically as if attempting to withdraw from what it sensed coming. But it was restricted.
Exposed.
Isolde let the drop fall. It touched the Core. And the world shifted.
The moment blood met crystal, the air warped. Mana exploded outward in concentric waves, frost spiraling violently from the point of contact. The array beneath Duke's feet flickered under the strain but held firm, mana flowing in tighter currents to stabilize the environment.
Bruce felt it immediately.
