Given how scarce the flags were, though his goal was to acquire rune arts, it was safer to prioritize gathering flags first.
Zephyrion selected the closest marker. Moments later, he sprinted through the forest at astonishing speed.
His legs blurred into twin streaks, yet not a single indentation was left behind on the ground, making it seem as though he was gliding through the forest itself.
A moment later, he arrived at his destination, stopping at the edge of a small cliff. Below, hovering above the center of a lake, was a crimson flag.
Zephyrion slowly swept his gaze across the surroundings with calm indifference. The area was utterly silent, save for the gentle rustling of wind and the distant chirping echoing through the forest.
Then he blinked once, pausing briefly. A second later, he turned toward the flag and stepped off the cliff without the slightest hesitation.
Metal aura formed beneath his feet as walked on the water and slowly approached the flag.
