Eragon could hardly believe what he was seeing. The pressure rolling off Leon's body wasn't just strong, it was suffocating. It rippled through the chamber like a tidal wave, bending the air, making the very floor hum beneath their boots. For a long moment, the seasoned Rank 9 professional couldn't move, couldn't speak.
And he wasn't alone.
Elaine, whose calm rarely cracked, stood frozen beneath her blindfold. Her lips parted faintly, as though searching for words that refused to come. Even Francis, the beast chief whose physical might dwarfed most beings alive was staring, golden eyes wide with disbelief.
A nineteen-year-old boy, a mere Rank 4 professional, was emanating the same overwhelming pressure as a peak Rank 7.
If they weren't witnessing it firsthand, they'd have laughed at the absurdity.
Alexander, however, only smiled. The calm, knowing kind that told them he'd expected this.
