''That's enough.'' The voice was authoritative, soft, and crisp like the edge of a blade.
It felt as though a needle dropped on top of a calm water making it ripple across the surface in a slow, but rhythmic manner.
The voice wasn't stating an opinion or a fact. He was making a frigging order, the kind that Jerouch's very core dare not defy.
Jerouch was used to this sour feeling by now. The feeling of being weak, small, and frail in front of absolute powers.
He knew he was improving everyday as he kept on chasing the path to power, yet, the monsters in this world just lurked everywhere, popping out wherever they felt like doing.
In the midst of the eerie atmosphere, Jerouch's gaze shifted, drawn to a figure that emerged from the shadows. Cloaked in a billowing robe of deepest black, the mysterious figure stood shrouded in an enigmatic aura.
