Luvengart. Percival could finally see the damned city in the distance.
For two days he'd been riding. For two days he had not rested, fearing that sleeping would take time away. '
It was deathly important that he reached the city in time. Deathly.
He swayed slightly in the saddle, his eyelids feeling as heavy as lead plates. For his low Mana, he had drunk the Elixirs in his inventory, using it to keep his core humming, his muscles moving and more importantly, to sustain Argus.
But Elixirs were a poor substitute for actual rest. The mind needed slumber to truly regenerate mana, and his mind had been a storm of map reading and paranoia.
Beneath him, Argus galloped with tireless, mechanical precision.
The Skeleton Beast was a blessing in this state. Unlike a living horse that needed fodder and rest, or a Soul Summon that drained a constant stream of mana, Argus required only a trickle to maintain his form.
It was why the Skeleton Steed was so efficient.
