As this was a matter concerning their race, it was obvious they would not have agreed to whatever the Amazari Rank Four superpower was saying.
However, there was a difference between naturally refusing a person and rudely refusing them.
Aside from the Amazari elder, who was livid with rage, and Michael, who was overstimulated by the sensation of death once again, which made it unsurprising that he could not fully maintain his composure beneath his calm exterior, since he had only been a supernatural for a limited ti and had not spent years refining his will like others at his stage, the people around them were thinking of ways to escape this situation alive with minimal casualties.
Even the battle-natured Khar'veth were using their minds to the fullest extent of their capabilities.
Unfortunately, the mont the silver-haired elder spoke the way she did, everyone imdiately knew it was over.
The atmosphere changed as the bronze male Amazari raised a hand, and the invisible pressure pressing down on everyone increased.
Surprisingly, the first person to make a move was neither the silver-haired Amazari elder, nor the Stonekin, nor the three leaders of the three races on the fifteenth floor, but Michael.
Before he had appeared in public a while ago, using the Damaged Coffin of the Forgotten, he had collected Blue and Purple, who guarded him closely in the Land of Origin, back into his original body.
They might not have possessed destructive power like most of his undead, but in terms of self preservation, thanks to their illusion abilities, they were among the best.
The instant the silver-haired elder spoke, Michael, who now had Blue and Purple resting as earrings on him, made a move.
Blue's law was called the Law of Reflected Reality, which was connected to the Greater Law of Light.
With this law, Blue could project mirror realities around itself, turning perception into a tangible force.
Every illusion was a reflection of belief. The more a target believed, the stronger the illusion beca.
To put it simply, the law inverted perception. What looked fake beca real, and what looked real beca illusion.
Purple's law was the Law of False Manifestation, which was related to the Greater Law of Reality.
This law allowed Purple to create illusions that interacted physically for a few seconds. To see was to summon, and what one perceived, even falsely, gained existence.
The best part was that these two laws could be used together, and when they were used together, they created a qualitative change due to the extre harmony they shared. This harmony was exactly what Michael took advantage of.
Before anyone could properly react to the shift in pressure, the mana around Michael stirred unnaturally as mist rolled out from beneath his feet.
Visibility dropped rapidly as the fog thickened, swallowing the lower half of the battlefield in a pale, drifting veil.
The bronze-skinned Amazari's eyes narrowed.
At the sa ti, the mist around Michael condensed.
Thin shapes began to form within the fog, elongated and sharp, their outlines barely visible until they fully erged. Dozens of narrow spears took shape.
They hovered for a single heartbeat, then they shot forward.
The mist spears scread through the air in a sudden barrage,
cutting toward the three figures in the sky from multiple angles at
once.
The gray-robed man moved first.
His eyes flashed as he stepped backward through the air, his figure blurring as he slipped cleanly between two incoming spears. The others passed through where he had been monts before, dispersing harmlessly into fog.
His face twisted in irritation when he realized he had dodged an attack that couldn't have hard him.
"Tch."
He looked down sharply, his gaze piercing the mist as if trying to locate Michael's exact position. His aura flared slightly, irritated rather
than threatened.
The bronze-skinned Amazari, on the other hand, did not evade.
He reached out calmly and caught one of the mist spears mid-flight.
His fingers closed around it without resistance.
The Amazari's eyes flickered with interest.
He turned the mist spear slowly in his hand, examining it as if it were
a curious artifact rather than an attack.
Beside him, the draconic figure did the sa.
A second mist spear slamd into his chest and stopped cold,
hovering against his scaled skin. He reached out and grabbed it with one massive hand, his crimson eyes narrowing as heat rippled faintly
around his fingers.
The spear trembled but did not imdiately disperse.
The draconic man laughed quietly.
"This is interesting," he said, his voice low and rumbling. "It is not real.
But it is not nothing either."
The bronze-skinned Amazari turned the mist spear once more
between his fingers, then let it dissolve into vapor.
His expression remained calm.
Almost amused.
"A neat application," he said casually.
The bronze-skinned Amazari chuckled softly.
"If my senses do not deceive , this seems to have co from a youth down there, but considering that I did not sense the blessing of the universe on him, he should be below the stage where he can use universal truths," he said, his voice light. "This is impressive." The draconic figure's lips curled into sothing that was not quite a
smile.
"And he is doing sothing," he said. "Even now."
The bronze-skinned man's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I know," he said.
As they were currently in a suppressed state, combined with the
nature of the mist, they could not read everything clearly through it,
but they could tell sothing was happening within.
The bronze-skinned Amazari lifted one hand. His law stirred, and a breeze moved across the battlefield.
"Gentle Breeze," the bronze-skinned man said softly.
The air obeyed.
It rolled outward in a wide arc, passing through the mist. The fog rippled, trembled, and then tore apart like thin cloth.
In a few seconds, the battlefield was clear.
The mist was gone.
The bronze-skinned Amazari looked down calmly, expecting to see
fear and hatred in the eyes of the people below at the sight of their
power. Instead, he froze.
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