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... snow beneath.

And though he moved slow, every step landed with a BOOM, not metaphorical, but real.

The Aether around his body had warped, condensed, burned, and reshaped itself into fire.

It bled into the soil, warped the snow into smoke.

He was a walking, active volcano.

Every single footfall shook the earth.

Yet, for all the fear he inspired, he looked half-dead.

No, not even.

He looked post-death. Like someone who had kept going ...

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She raised her eyes to glance at him, but saw a pair of eyes that seemed to refrain from smiling, “You are not untalented, this prince actually thinks, my wife is very beautiful.”

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