"It's not there," Noah observed.
"It definitely was, at least…We're not imagining it," Lamore assured, lightly shaking his head as if trying to organize his memories.
For a moment, Noah questioned if any of it had truly happened, though his doubt was washed away as he looked at the floor. It was littered with burn marks, cracks, and even craters scattered across the gray tiles. A battle had occurred there; that much was undeniable.
"So, it's gone?" Noah asked, looking at the wall. "There's no way that's the case."
"Well, there's one way we can check," the centuries-old elf said, rolling his shoulders with a sigh deepened by age.
Taking a step back, he watched Lamore approach the wall, only to pull one fist back as the gauntlet was imbued with a rich influx of mana. An empowering breath was drawn into the elf's lungs, sounding like a whirlwind amidst a brewing storm before–
