Four days had passed since Verc left the castle, and three days of that time had been spent in total isolation. Deep within the cold, silent depths of the cave, he had lost all sense of day and night.
"Hup... How much time had passed?"
Verc asked himself, his voice sounding raspy and strange in the hollow silence of the tunnel.
His muscles felt tight, yet filled with a new kind of vitality. For three days, he had stayed in that exact spot, locked in a trance. He had been swinging his sword like a maniac, his movements a blur of steel and mana. While his body moved through the forms of his swordsmanship, his mind had been entirely focused on the air around him. He was constantly using [Mana Circulation], acting like a sponge as he absorbed and processed the dense, corrupted mana that filled the cave.
"Hmm?"
Verc looked down at his hands. He opened and closed them, testing the grip of his fingers.
