The instant their Soul Senses erupted, a violent psychic storm ripped through the City Lord's manor. A roar—half dragon, half goat—howled through the grand courtyard, echoing off stone walls like a beast in agony. The guards who had just stormed in were thrown back by the invisible force, blood spurting from their noses and mouths as they crashed into pillars and walls.
"A Soul-Wielder?"
"A Soul Priest?"
Ethan and Gorr spoke at the same time, their voices tight with disbelief as they clashed mentally.
"Hmph…"
Ethan staggered, his skull pounding like he'd taken a hammer to the head. His vision blurred, and a sharp sting shot through his nose. He bit down on his lower lip, tasting blood and forcing his mind to stay conscious.
'Damn it…'
This old man was no amateur. His Soul Sense was absurdly strong—dense, oppressive, suffocating. Since Ethan had awakened as a Soul-Wielder, this was the first time he'd been genuinely outmatched in a psychic duel.
