Drip. Drip. Drip...
It was like he'd just been pulled out of a lake. Nathaniel was soaked to the bone—his clothes clung to him, drenched, his face pale as a ghost, sweat pouring down his forehead. He stared at Ethan, wide-eyed, frozen in place.
His eyes were trembling with fear.
He was actually scared.
And honestly? Who could blame him?
Emily, at least, was a Radiant Spirit hero—an Epic-tier, purple-ranked unit. That gave her some kind of foundation, some resistance, however slight.
But Nathaniel? He was just a plain old white-tier Common hero.
Even compared to Emily, he was way outclassed.
And Ethan? Ethan was on a whole different level—an SSS-tier, orange-ranked Legendary hero.
They weren't even playing the same game.
The pressure Nathaniel felt wasn't just psychological—it was something deeper, something primal. A soul-crushing force that came from the sheer difference in hero tiers. It was like standing in front of a god.
