Perhaps realizing something, an overbearing pressure suddenly erupted. Olivius' gaze sharpened in an instant, a dangerous glint fleckering in his amber eyes.
In an icy voice, he asked, "Are you accusing my members?"
There was no wind — no dramatic visual effects like curtains whipping or glass shattering — only a cold stillness.
A silent threat filled the room.
The invisible pressure was enough to make the young woman by the door to tremble ever so slightly.
But to the person Olivius directing it at… the reaction was not what he expected.
Most people would already be on their knees, begging for forgiveness.
But this man?
Olivius couldn't sense a single hint of discomfort from Eman.
No change in breath, posture, or composure.
It was the first time Olivius had seen someone hold such unwavering confidence.
'Is he that over confident… or just stupid?' Olivius couldn't help but wonder.
