The Cloud Tower stood wreathed in mist, at the very summit of the Mirror World.
Its dull gray walls faintly took on a bluish-green hue beneath the light. The moment Angel reached the tower's entrance, he heard flurries of beating wings.
Looking up, he saw that the flock of white doves resting quietly on one of the tower's windowsills had all spread their wings and begun circling through the air.
They flew around the tower in an arcane pattern.
Not long after they began circling, one white dove broke away from the flock and fluttered down before Angel.
Angel held out his hand, and the dove immediately landed on the back of it. At the same time, an incomparably rich aura of mana began radiating outward from the dove.
Angel stroked the dove's feathers and savored the sensation of mana pouring into his body for a few seconds before saying softly, "It's not time to take you away yet. Go back for now."
With that, Angel released it and let it return to the flock.
Once the dove had blended back into the flock, Angel touched his slightly roughened face and murmured, "They say phantom spirits recognize people not by appearance, but by the scent of their energy. It seems that's true."
Before entering the Mirror World, Angel had altered his appearance with Transfiguration—
He looked like a man in his thirties, somewhat like an older version of Leon, with exceptionally sharp brows. Yet the aura he gave off lacked Leon's heroic edge. He appeared profoundly languid, his short red hair tied up carelessly, the hair at his temples tossed wildly by the wind. He wore a loose leather trench coat, with a layer of unshaven stubble still shadowing his chin, making him look rather rakish and cynical.
Gloria felt