Fulgardt found himself back on Aigas, back on Edagon. The world hardly looked like a place living beings could thrive in anymore. The skies were cracked, the waters were turning black and the air had thinned to the point of extinction. Mana was running thin as well, along with the Rules which weakened further and further the more Boron clashed with Quintess and Listafelle.
Dreadful winds blew freely everywhere while portions of the great void gleefully leaked in.
A bit more time had passed here on Aigas than that which Fulgardt and Skullius had experienced in the great void.
It might have been the end of the world.
But the Immoral hardly cared.
He was busy burning with scalding fury because he had been got.
His soul and body was bonded with millions of other souls for the express purpose of locking in Aigas!
He could feel it. It was as though invisible roots tied him to this world. If he tried to leave, only perhaps a second would pass before he was forced back!
