He carefully pulled the marrow out from the bone and dried them. He turned the tough leather hide of the Celestial Storms into a true aether, and the flaming feathers of the Celestial Embers into carefully outlines runes.
His Force Crafting Quill danced in the air, simple and unadorned, but radiating with the rainbow color of the surrounding formations.
His free hand tapped at the air with the majesty of an elite pianist, but with a speed that far surpassed it.
Every finger stroke was like a rumble of thunder and a flash of lightning, a tsunami of earth and a hurricane of blades. Despite the short distance they moved, the booming echo flew through the air and shattered space like fragmenting glass. Sometimes, these fragments would even bombard against Leonel's own body, blood leaking between his nails and the joints of his digits.
But he didn't seem to notice at all as veins popped across him, his focus reaching an absolutely unprecedented state.