One moment the guards were chanting, their faces contorted in expressions of aggression; the next, every single one of them was on the ground with their limbs splayed awkwardly.
A collective gasp ripped through the air, followed by a chorus of wet coughs. Some clutched at their throats, eyes wide and bulging, desperate for air that refused to enter their lungs.
Others convulsed as a thin trickle of blood escaped their lips. They thrashed weakly, bewildered, their minds unable to comprehend the invisible force that had so utterly incapacitated them.
They were fish out of water, suffocating in an atmosphere suddenly devoid of oxygen.
Adrian let his aura linger for a few agonizing seconds, an oppressive blanket of power that crushed their spirits and bodies alike.
Then, with a silent command, he retracted it, though a lingering phantom of its weight remained in the air.
He stepped over their prone forms, his boots crunching softly on the wet gravel. No one dared to block his path.
