"Something's off about this ghost." Hemmed in the irregular shades of the forest, the imposter murmured under his breath. Feeling observed once might have been a coincidence. Not twice.
But... how? With the little mana the ghost owned, he might as well insult every novice by calling him one, much less a mage. Yet, in this world of memories, the ghost seemed to notice him as if he were an entity of old—a mystical being on Serevan's level. No, it had to be higher... Did the ghost sense his gaze from now back then? Was that why he had observed him?
Impossible! The ghost would have to tower over the realm as a supreme sorcerer, standing shoulder to shoulder with Haldris, Leviathan, and the four monarchs. Humans, with their bodies and affinities, couldn't reach that level. So, a ghost who owned neither? Even more impossible... And even if someone that powerful raised Adam from the crib, his mythical organs made no sense.
