Chrysalis
Chapter 990
Breathe.
In. Hold. Release. Hold.
Breathe.
In. Hold. Release. Hold.
Slowly. Patience was required. The sharpest blade couldn't be forged in a day. The metal had to be unearthed, refined, smelted, shaped, heated and cooled over and over again until the final temper had been achieved. The perfect weapon was the work of a lifetime.
And so was Orrina.
She was the Legion's weapon, its sharpest and most perfect. She had been forged over many years, placed in the fire, moulded, quenched, then thrown back into the heat once more.
Breathe.
In. Hold. Release. Hold.
As she repeated the mantra and controlled the air that flowed into her body, so too did she influence the mana around her. It pulsed, rising and falling along with her lungs. Vast quantities rushed into her body, were contained, and then released. Each time she drew it in, the energy within her grew that little bit more rich, more vibrant. It wouldn't be long now.
Breathe.
In. Hold. Release. Hold.
they could not reach her. All that would remain was
aura that rolled off her in dense waves felt as if it would cut the air.
A final time.
Breathe.
In. Hold. Release. Hold.
Her mind had been reduced to the
she opened
before her. An impossible construct of complexity and engineering so profound it was nothing short of a miracle. A fitting partner for her.
mind, she knew her peers were engaged in the same ritual as she. Those thoughts were ignored, allowed to drift away without touching her singular focus. With measured steps, she moved towards her armour, her balance effortlessly perfect. A ladder had been prepared, but she didn't need it,
it hurt to look at. A shimmering pool of intense light, so vibrant and filled with power
Liquid mana.
One last time. Breathe.
In. Hold. Release. Hold.
placed her hands on either side of the opening and smoothly lowered herself in, plunging herself into the liquid
Agony.
rip her apart. But it didn't happen. The vast rivers of magic that flowed through her came into contact with this new power source and found a delicate equilibrium. If she were any less saturated with
her in place, tying
armour hummed
with the metal, her unique skills, possessed only by the chosen few within the Legion, coming alive. The pain continued, but she didn't feel it; these were
plates of metal in front as if they
to her right, the gauntlet closing around the hilt of her beloved sword. Blade in hand, she strode forward, perfectly
rare occasion, one that hadn't happened in her entire career. Ten of them had been
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