Dezyne had not slept for two days. The moment Arzen rushed into the tower hall with the news, Elias and Drake missing, and Devon nowhere to be found, something inside him snapped.
The pain in his chest, the pressure behind his ribs that he had been suppressing for months, surged violently. But he ignored it, waving Arzen off as he activated every scrying crystal in the Magnus Tower.
"Master, your body..." Arzen tried to protest.
"Silence," Dezyne hissed, eyes glowing an unnatural silver as he pressed both palms against the ancient map slab. "Find…the children…"
The surface of the slab glimmered, then fractured into dozens of light veins searching outward across the entire territory. Dezyne's teeth gritted. Sweat poured from his temples. The backlash from touching the ley lines, his weakened mana core tearing at itself, was immediate. But he didn't care.
He had no more time left.
Not for treatments. Not for rest. Not for saving himself.
Only for Devon.
