As Aurus placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, the air shifted.
A low hum trembled through the plaza, like the breath held before a scream. Slowly, he began to draw the blade.
The pressure hit instantly.
The wind stopped. All sound vanished. The world itself seemed to grow heavier.
With every inch of steel that emerged, the ground cracked beneath his feet. The weight of his presence pressed down like a mountain.
Adventurers staggered. Some gasped for air, others dropped to their knees. A few collapsed entirely, unconscious before they hit the ground.
Even Ronan struggled. His legs trembled. He tried to stand, but finally dropped one knee to the stone, sweat running down his face.
Elysia smiled, her head tilting slightly.
"Oh my," she murmured, voice light and amused, like someone admiring a painting. "So this is the strength of the Hero..."
