Noah stood still.
At first glance, she was nothing. A pale-skinned girl in a tattered white robe, hair splayed like threads of moonlight, lips parted with the rhythm of sleep. Her presence was unmarked by authority, untouched by mana, devoid of any tangible pressure.
But it was a lie.
A beautiful one.
His eyes narrowed, cold and clinical.
No fluctuations.
No resonance.
No fields of power humming beneath her flesh.
And yet…
The runes.
They were everywhere. Carved across her limbs, her chest, her neck, spiraling upward gloriously.
At first glance? They were meaningless. Decorative.
But Noah focused.
And the deeper he stared, the more the silence in his mind began to ring.
His thoughts buzzed with pressure, not from her, but from the Runes as he felt a resonance he could not quite explain.
Because runes weren't just patterns.
They were a language. And these seemed to be saying something!
But…
