Alastair was terrified beyond measure, yet he dared not show it, only managing to stare fixedly at John.
Sparks seemed almost ready to fly from his eyes.
He was seething with hatred.
Why?
Why was this happening?
He had performed so impeccably, yet why was the outcome still so far from what he had envisioned?
Why, despite possessing the power of control, was there such a vast difference between him and this man?
He had been on the verge of killing John before, yet now he found himself subdued by him.
Why?
How could this man's strength so vastly surpass his own?
Was it merely because he had a slightly better grasp of the power of control?
He was, after all, an emerald-tier master, while John was nothing but a gold-tier failure.
There really was nothing else to say!
Alastair's eyes were so bloodshot they seemed almost to bleed, and his heart was filled with unbearable resentment.
