Harlin's boat cut through the water with surprising speed for its age, the weathered hull responding to each wave like it had memorized the sea's patterns over decades of use. Adom sat near the stern, one hand on his pack, watching as the old sailor consulted a compass that had started behaving oddly over the last hour.

"Damn thing," Harlin muttered, tapping the glass face of the instrument. The needle spun lazily, paused pointing southwest, then continued its rotation. "That's how you know we're getting close."

Adom nodded. He'd been expecting this. "The mana interference."

"Exactly." Harlin put the useless compass away. "Don't need it anyway. I know these waters by feel."

They'd been traveling for nearly six hours. Adom had managed to sleep for five of them, his [Primordial Body] instantly shifting into recovery mode the moment he'd decided to rest.

Harlin throttled back the engine until they were barely moving forward. "This is as far as we go, boy."

Adom stood, stretching his limbs. His muscles felt perfect—no stiffness, no fatigue, just pure readiness. "You're sure we're halfway?"

"Sure as death and taxes." Harlin pointed toward the horizon where a hazy outline was just barely visible. "That's the edge of the Highlands. Another three, maybe four hours by boat, but my girl's not built for what comes next."

"What comes next?"

"The currents change. Water gets thick, like you're sailing through honey. Then come the random whirlpools. After that..." Harlin made a popping sound with his lips. "Floating rocks. Fog that burns your lungs. All manner of unpleasantness."

"Sounds charming."

"Doesn't it just." Harlin chuckled. "You sure about this, Ghost? No shame in turning back."

Adom checked his pack straps one final time. "I'm sure. I'll meet you back at this spot in five days. Say, midday?"

"I'll be here." Harlin tilted his head. "Though I admit I'm curious how you plan to—"

Adom began weaving the mana pattern for [Flight], a spell he'd cast so many thousands of times that it felt like signing his name. The air around him stirred, then condensed, creating invisible platforms beneath his feet.

"Oh," Harlin said, impressed despite himself. "That's handy."

Adom rose slowly, careful not to destabilize the boat. The wind picked up as he ascended, catching Harlin's worn hat and nearly sending it into the sea.

"Sorry about that," Adom called down.

Harlin secured his hat with one hand. "Just make sure you come back in one piece, boy. I don't want to explain to your fans why the Ghost went missing."

"Five days," Adom confirmed, now hovering twenty feet above the boat. "Midday."

At this height, he could feel it clearly—the mana density increasing the closer he got to the Highlands. The air felt thicker, almost syrupy against his skin, but in a way that made his spell work more efficiently rather than hindering it. Like trying to swim in a perfect-temperature pool after practicing in cold ocean water.

Below, Harlin's boat was already turning, heading back toward Northhaven. Ahead, the hazy outline of the Highlands grew slightly more distinct—a massive landmass that seemed to shimmer oddly at the edges, as if it couldn't quite decide where it ended and the sky began.

Adom took a breath, adjusted his trajectory slightly, and poured power into his spell.

Fwoosh!

The air split around him as he accelerated to a speed that would have made most flyers black out from the pressure. But his [Primordial Body] simply adapted, his vision remaining crystal clear despite the wind, his lungs extracting oxygen efficiently from the rushing air.

So convenient.

Less than an hour to reach the shore, Adom calculated. At this rate, he'd have plenty of daylight left to get oriented and begin his search.

As he flew, the water below began to change—patches of unusual color appeared, swirling patterns that didn't match the natural movement of waves. In some places, the sea bulged upward as if something massive was pushing from below. In others, it seemed to curve unnaturally, defying gravity in ways that water simply shouldn't.

The Giant Highlands were already making their presence known.

Adom adjusted his flight path slightly higher, not wanting to discover what happened when one of those strange water formations encountered a passing mage. He had a mission to complete, and it didn't involve being swallowed by a whirlpool.

The mana grew denser with every mile.