The wandering dragon flashed like a startled swan; cold snakes spread like a giant net.
Thread by thread, inch by inch, while everyone was distracted by the gold bricks, white aura threads moved like sentient soft-bodied creatures.
Gradually covering the ground.
Like pythons flicking their tongues, while everyone was caught up in a frenzied scramble, the aura threads had already wound around their limbs.
High in the air, Coleman rolled his wrist and smiled faintly.
"Let's see how well I learned it." His fingers tightened slightly, curling into claws.
Several threads instantly went taut, and the people at their ends froze rigidly in place.
Coleman's fingers danced like he was playing a piano, like a conductor immersed in some melody.
At the same time, a group suddenly emerged from the chaotic melee below, acting entirely on their own.
They moved in perfect unison, terror written across their faces, wielding all manner of weapons as they slashed and hacked.
They made no distinction between friend and foe. Anyone near them would be attacked by these panicked people.
"What are you doing, Bruto?!" The captain of one team narrowly dodged his teammate Bruto's dagger and shouted in panicked fury, "Are you trying to rebel?"
Bruto—the man being forced to attack his teammate—looked even more frightened than the captain under attack. His lips trembled as he said shakily, "N-No, I don't want to either! But my body won't listen to me!"
Along with those words, the vicious dagger struck at the captain again.
The captain, who was poor at hand-to-hand combat, was no match for this "puppet." In less than three exchanges, he was riddled with wounds.
Bruto watched as the captain who had once saved him was stabbed full of holes by his own hand, and grief appeared on his face.
His