Sylas' Rune Mastery was simply on another level. Old Brama, who could sense the waves and fluctuations, sat in silence on the outside, manning the ship as his hands trembled.
He was a C-Grade Rune Master. He stood on a level so far beyond the F-tier that Sylas' Rune Mastery should have been nothing more than a joke to him.
And yet, he found his Will constantly wanting to bow in obedience. He didn't even try, but he knew that if he did, he wouldn't be able to form even a single Rune right now.
It was like he had forgotten how to draw Runes in Sylas' presence, the world finding him to be so wholly inferior that he didn't have the right to do so, even if he wanted.
Even though he couldn't lay eyes on Sylas right now, he could practically feel the bright white-gold crown above his head. The Primus Luminaria, the symbol of a Rune Master who had reached heights he couldn't fathom.
