He took a deep breath. The hot air entered his lungs, but it wasn't suffocating, it wasn't harsh.
"I'm alive."
At that moment, that alone was enough.
"And as I expected, this body is cursed, cursed by fire... like the boy's condition. There's something wrong with that, but the important thing is that he saved me. The fire did that."
But then—a sound. A deafening screech tore through the silence, the grinding of rocks against rocks, a low roar building like distant tidal waves.
Except they weren't distant.
The Ocean's Grasp, the colossal entity they had thought defeated, was not lifeless after all. Its massive body stirred, its void-like eyes burning with pure, unrelenting hatred.
"It's impossible! How... how are we going to deal with this thing?" one of the Magins cried out, panic lacing their voice.
