Looking at Damien and Isabelle who were silent, The Scaled Brute's pincer hand closed in, aiming to crush the shoulder of the "frail" human standing before him.
To the mutant, Damien looked like nothing more than a mana battery, a soft-skin surface dweller who would snap like a dry twig.
"Give me the arm," the guard sneered, anticipating the scream.
But the scream never came.
THUD.
Just as the pincer was about to make contact, Damien's right hand moved.
He simply reached out and gripped the guard's massive, scaled shoulder.
"You want flesh?" Damien whispered.
The air around Damien didn't flare with mana. Instead, it distorted, twisting like a heat haze above asphalt.
[Will Art: King's Pressure.]
A standard application of will he had learnt ever since he intitally awakened it, the ability to supress others with his thoughts alone.
Only this time he gave it a fancy name
The guard's sneer vanished instantly.
