Sol stood on the edge of a rooftop, high above the city. The sprawl of the city stretched beneath him, flickering lamplights revealing the cobblestone streets.
Sol's black robes fluttered as his eyes scanned every corner, every alley. He knew Discord wyrms were naturally attracted to chaotic environments, but during his fight with Gin and Baron, he was too focused on escaping with Klien that he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings.
Tonight, Sol planned to draw it out.
Taking a steady breath, Sol tried to maintain focus and clear his mind as he prepared to cast a spell. This was no brute force spell; it was a careful, precise manipulation, meant to be as subtle as a whisper.
A spell even skilled mages would struggle to detect
Sol extended his palm, and with a faint murmur, he began to shape the chaos energy into tendrils of invisible influence that drifted downward, snaking through the city streets below.
