The roots of the Holy Spirit Tree glowed with a pale golden fluorescence under the moonlight.
Xiya Asolan knelt on one knee at the top of the tree canopy, his Divine Ancestor's body entwined by countless translucent Destiny Threads.
Those threads, flowing with golden runes, attempted to stitch him to the strange light cluster at the center of the trunk. With every struggle, another crack appeared on his left shoulder — the price of corruption by the "Prisoner of Destiny."
"What an interesting fellow."
Divine Ancestor Xiya sneered at the void.
In the next moment, an unexpected pale flame ignited at his fingertips, instantly burning away the entangling Destiny Threads.
He suddenly recalled the infinite mark hovering over Lynn at the time, vaguely feeling it was familiar, yet no matter how he tried to remember, he couldn't retrieve the related memory fragments.
Having lived for tens of thousands of years, many memories inevitably become thin and distant with the passage of time.
