Light scattered through the air.
The scene could be summarized in that brief phrase. Cracks formed in the string of characters that had burned red, then spread until the whole structure began to tremble.
Then came the rupture.
Having returned to primal power, the ‘Leash’ finally gained its freedom and dispersed. It was much like Marquis Findleston, who had only now escaped his restraints. If there was one difference between them, it was that unlike the Dragonblood Script, the middle-aged man wore a bewildered expression.
As though he could not possibly believe it.
The hand feeling along his neck was clumsy. A spell possessed neither volume nor mass. The sensation beneath his fingers should therefore have been unchanged, yet a kaleidoscope of emotions raged within the Marquis’s eyes.
Joy?
No. The middle-aged man did not even have the presence of mind to feel such an emotion yet.
He did not appear to have understood what had happened in the first place.
Even so, humans possessed a realm called intuition. Though…