A trail of dust rose behind Adam's bolting figure.
With each urgent step, the wind battered his half-melted armor as the scenery blurred in his eyes.
Heart racing against his chest, he avoided the trees on his way for half an hour before he emerged from the forest.
He exhaled, his ragged breath echoing against his territory's calm farms. But he couldn't waste time, not when Loki did something weird to his demon den.
Under the evening sun's rays, he passed by the Tomte and Sam, who overlooked the empty fields and Demeter's Harvest Hall, before he leapt across the river. Landing on the paved street, he passed by the oikas, Gate, and the demonic altar.
He noticed that the latter had changed once again. It now reached higher into the sky, and the tube-like fingers began to resemble thick branches. They spewed more demonic essence, and its purity forced his shoulders to cramp and shudder in eagerness.
