The power of Originium stirred quietly within his blood. His bones, muscles, even his skin, were all shaped by the wind at this moment. Air currents swiftly gathered along with his movements, gently lifting him and forming an invisible barrier that reduced air resistance to its lowest point.
He was no longer comparable to his former self.
After all, the days spent with the master of the Royal Courts had actually been very deceptive.
Though the process was difficult to describe in detail, ever since he had formed a close connection with Lamaline, there had scarcely been a time when he felt that piece of cloth lacked sufficient strength. Normally, there was no need for him to constantly expend energy, either.
A few years ago, merely remaining at high altitude for a while would have consumed considerable energy, let alone traveling at the speed of sound as he did now. If Kazimierz had encountered his current self back then, perhaps things would have turned out differently.
At this moment, he could even clearly distinguish the "ages" of these winds—the winds that had just plunged down from the tops of the clouds still carried a trace of youthful restlessness, while those blowing from the valleys were filled with steady, weighty power.
As for his Arts, after that battle with Theresa, his imitation of Muelsyse's clone had officially crossed the threshold into true mastery. Even just three close-range phantoms meant for assassination were a considerable improvement for him.
If he ran into that Feline general now and tried to fight her head-on, it might no longer be an impossible challenge.
An hour passed in the blink of an eye.
As Gerald approached Kazdel's airspace, the scent carried by the wind changed.
The air was no longer purely cold and clear, but mixed