The black mist spewed out like a fountain of blood from its body, enveloping the surrounding battlefield, with whispers of corrosion and mental disturbance filling the air.
Even from a distance, many knights felt dizzy, nauseous, and experienced auditory hallucinations and tinnitus.
"Ah... something is speaking in my ear... it's watching me..."
A few knights from the Cold Iron Legion beside him struggled to resist the mental erosion, sweat beading on their foreheads, their faces pale.
They were among the strongest elite of the Northern Knights, yet still felt an indescribable oppression.
But at that moment, they noticed something even more shocking.
Louis remained calm and composed.
The young Viscount stood by the hillside, seemingly ignoring the presence of the mental oppression, calmly surveying the terrain, calculating the wind speed, and even quietly assigning technical parameters.
