The argument between Fenrir and Fredric reached a boiling point.
The tension in the room was almost suffocating, the two of them standing on opposite sides of a rift that had widened with every word spoken.
Fredric's frustration was palpable, his voice raised in anger, and Fenrir was no better, his own emotions flaring.
But then, amidst the heated exchange, something shifted in Fenrir.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and consciously calmed his mind.
The argument was going nowhere, and he knew it was time to take control of the situation.
With a subtle but deliberate movement, Fenrir focused his mana.
His power, while not as vast as Fredric's, was finely honed and controlled. The air in the room grew heavy as Fenrir manipulated his mana pressure, pushing it outward.
Fredric's expression faltered for a moment as he felt the weight of Fenrir's power, his body involuntarily stiffening.
