"These strange trees of yours, sister Dark Shadow… they're absorbing ambient mana from the surroundings to grow stronger…"
Forty-Two squatted low, her delicate fingers gently brushing the tender sprouts breaking through the rich, dark soil. Her eyes shimmered with childlike curiosity—yet behind them glimmered the sharp edge of intellect far beyond her youthful frame.
Mana-fueled growth was nothing new to her. In fact, she had witnessed and studied countless spiritual flora over her years—across battlefields, dead realms, and forgotten gardens—but something about these trees made her pause.
Her gaze narrowed.
The saplings weren't consuming all mana indiscriminately. No—they were choosing.
Discerning. Selective.
She leaned closer, pressing her ear against the bark of a nearby shoot as if listening to its pulse. The mana flow whispered against her skin.
