The intense soul battle exacted a tremendous toll on Emery. His robust half-blood physique provided no advantage in such a mental struggle. Every maneuver, every tactic employed was a product of his mental resilience. It was a grueling contest of wits, a clash of ever-shifting thoughts.
For Emery, the thirty-minute soul battle was akin to a grueling three-day ordeal. When he finally emerged victorious, he found himself depleted of strength, unable to fully restrain his defeated opponent. Thus, Emery resorted to creating a specialized chamber within his aperture, sealing Mo Yan within its confines.
"YOU CAN'T HOLD ME HERE!" Mo Yan's defiant voice echoed within Emery's mind, causing him a throbbing headache even in victory.
As Emery regained consciousness, his exhausted mind had to deal with the likes of Lucius Corvin, the figure he despised most. Doubt flickered in the patriarch's eyes as he scrutinized Emery's identity.
