The temperature in the throne room plunged as a dozen powerful auras erupted from the guards and inquisitors. The combined pressure swept out in a wave of semi-visible distorted air, slamming against me like a physical blow. Every muscle in my body stiffened as it threatened to overwhelm me, suffocating my lungs and turning my thoughts fuzzy. I might have been able to simply shrug it off were it not for the High Inquisitor, whose soul was at the peak of sixth level.
Fable pressed against me, and a flood of mana surged into my soul, buoying me up and allowing me to release the seal I kept on my own aura. Immediately, the pressure equalized and I sagged back, gasping for air.
"Curious," the high inquisitor muttered, "I'm surprised you can withstand that. But it doesn't matter. Resisting will only bring you more pain."
