He forced his exhausted body to stand up slowly.
Every movement was carefully controlled, neither too weak nor revealing the true state of his near-depleted spiritual power.
"Micro-structure Adaptation... for the last time..."
A silver light weakly surged from his body, constructing an illusory yet imposing giant figure at the edge of the Consciousness Space.
Twisted syllables slithered around the projection like live snakes, exuding an unsettling aura of reality erosion.
"Who else wants to try?"
Ron's voice was magnified through the projection, carrying the bloodthirsty intimidation from just having slain four of its kin.
The voice echoed through the dimensional cracks, reverberating within the Dimensional Angles.
Faint echoes of advanced ravings continued to linger.
The remaining twisted syllables, like invisible venomous snakes, continually reminded the hounds of the danger present.
The discussion among the three hounds behind the crack grew more intense.
