Ethan's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
He'd never expected this damn pangolin to be carrying something that terrifying.
The blood-red gemstone hovered above its palm like it had a will of its own. The runes on its surface pulsed like breathing. Every flicker made the air around it heavier, like gravity itself was leaning in.
Ethan was still figuring out how to deal with it when a figure swept past his side.
"Master, let me."
Feylora's voice was calm—flat, even—but there was no arguing with the resolve behind it.
The very next instant, the Primordial Force in the area moved like it had heard its true name. It surged toward her in a frenzy.
Energy that had always been invisible suddenly became something you could see: a pale-gold mist, slowly spinning around her as it gathered.
"This thing's power is too strong," Feylora said under her breath. "Step back."
Ethan's brows knit together.
He knew perfectly well Feylora wasn't a pure frontline fighter.
