The air trembled as the Void-Touched Warg lunged toward the Empress, its monstrous form surging like a comet of death.
But Asher didn't move.
He remained at the edge of the battlefield—hands folded behind his back, silvery-white hair caught in the rising winds, crimson eyes half-lidded as if watching a lesson unfold. His coat fluttered gently as wave after wave of enemies thundered toward his Reapers.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't raise a hand.
He didn't need to.
The Six-Eternal Empress didn't blink. Her white hair billowed around her, her six soul orbs swirling into a vortex of power behind her back. As the Warg lunged, she extended a single finger.
And snapped.
The world froze.
A tidal surge of soul pressure erupted outward in all directions. The Warg's charge slowed. Chains binding its back shattered mid-air, unraveling into threads of grief and ancient agony. The nine soul cores embedded in its chest flickered wildly, then cracked.
