He released another surge of power—not the maximum he could generate, but enough to prove the point decisively. His aura crashed over Viroas like an ocean wave over a sandcastle.
The temple knight's knees buckled. He fought against it with every ounce of will, but his body couldn't withstand the pressure. Slowly, inexorably, he was forced downward.
First, one knee touched the ground, then the other. His hands pressed against the shattered marble to keep from falling completely flat.
He had lost.
The courtyard was silent except for Viroas's labored breathing. Everyone stared at the scene in shock—a temple knight, blessed by divine power, forced to his knees by a young baron who openly doubted the very deities the knight served.
Jolthar withdrew his aura, pulling it back until it was barely perceptible. The pressure vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
