Jalen slowly crouched beside the severed arm lying amidst the rubble and dust.
The once majestic summit of Mount Ale had been reduced to a wasteland of shattered stone, broken pillars, and smoking craters, while fragments of destroyed buildings still rolled down the slopes from time to time.
The old mage appeared completely unconcerned by the devastation surrounding him.
Instead, his attention remained fixed upon the arm that had once belonged to Lambert.
There was neither sadness nor hesitation in his eyes as he reached down and removed the storage ring from one of the fingers. The motion was calm and practiced, as though he had waited a very long time for this opportunity.
"I must admit," Jalen said while examining the ring, "you know far more than I expected from someone who spent his entire life among mortals."
