Zelphra's hands trembled as she raised her sword again, mana flaring around her like a storm. Her eyes locked onto Fenrir, rage and confusion building behind them.
"You leave me no choice! Let's see how long you last under this pressure!"
She shouted.
She thrust her hand forward—and the air shifted.
A pulse erupted from her body, dark and ancient, and the system's voice echoed in Fenrir's ears:
[Warning: Monarch's Pressure detected.]
[All stats will be reduced to 50% for the duration of exposure.]
For a brief moment, Fenrir staggered.
His limbs felt heavier. His mana moved sluggishly. The familiar chill of the ability he once wielded now turned against him, clinging to his soul like chains.
But then… he grinned.
'How amusing.'
He thought, and pushed his own mana outward, wrapping it around the invading pressure, surrounding it, shaping it—not resisting, but absorbing it.
The system stuttered for a moment before announcing:
[System Error Detected.]
