Loryn moved with absolute precision, his skeletal hands manipulating dark mana with the clinical expertise of centuries of practice.
High-concentration dark mana flames, burning with absolute cold, engulfed Night Glass Cores arranged in precise formations. The stones began to liquefy under the focused pressure of power that Loryn had perfected over eons of corrupting experimentation.
The molten substance transformed into thick, viscous, pitch-black ink that pulsed with a suffocating, corruptive energy.
It was corruption given physical form, essence refined into a liquid that should never exist in the natural world. Looking at it made the air itself seem volatile.
"The ink is prepared," Loryn announced, his voice returning to clinical precision. "We are ready for the inscription phase."
Jack removed his tunic without hesitation, exposing his torso and revealing the defined muscles beneath. He settled into a seiza position.
