A light-based power this perverse was beyond belief.
The white dragon drew closer, the sphere of radiant fire on its claw growing brighter, hotter.
A new mark blazed to life on Orion's forehead: the emblem of two massive, crossed tusks. The Ancestor's Soul.
Orion threw his head back and let out a guttural roar of pure agony. As he did, a shockwave of soul power erupted from him, violently expelling every trace of elemental energy from his immediate vicinity. For a split second, he existed in a perfect vacuum, devoid of both light and darkness.
The anomaly did not go unnoticed. The Great Dragon King of Light, Mondusath, thrust its claw forward without hesitation, aiming to impale him.
But in that same instant, Orion vanished.
He reappeared a safe distance away, panting, a wave of relief washing over him. Thank the gods for the Ancestor's Soul. That was my last trump card. Without it, that last attack would have crippled me.
