The final days of the exchange passed with a strange duality, simultaneously swift and impossibly dense as they did everything they could to have fun before the time came for the group to head back to the Human Kingdom.
Nocturna did not slow for them during this either, if anything, it seemed to accelerate.
Albedo and Elara spent the first morning separated, not by command but by instinct. There were things best absorbed alone. Albedo followed the deeper currents of mana through the city's martial districts, watching demon veterans spar with an intensity that made even Zeus's battles look restrained.
He saw techniques that discarded wasted movement entirely. Strikes that borrowed momentum from space itself. Defensive forms that did not block, but reframed an attack so it simply no longer applied.
