The scorching gazes were like tangible boiling oil splashed across his skin.
Dago not only felt the heat, but also smelled the greed, jealousy, and killing intent mixed within it.
He stood atop a stone pillar, while the space around him seemed to have turned into a viscous swamp.
It was the Mental Force Fields of the other seven genius wizards, silently weaving into an airtight net in an attempt to trap him to death.
But he had no time to spare them any attention.
His pupils held only that patch of ever-expanding deep purple.
It hovered three inches before the tip of his nose.
Close enough to touch.
Dazzling motes of light leaped chaotically within the ring. Every one of them resembled a tiny star containing destructive power, radiating an alluring yet dangerous fluctuation.
It was within reach.
Too easy.
That overwhelming sense of reality instead gave rise to an absurd illusion.
Dago's fingers twitched slightly at his side, yet he did not raise his hand at once.
Reason was like an icy blade, cutting through the desire surging within him.
Was it a trap?
Or a gift from fate?
The air around him began to warp.
Seven powerful mental attacks crashed viciously into his Mental Force Field like heavy hammers.
The chill in Michael's silver eyes and the venomous curses of the others turned into invisible blades, seeking to tear him apart before he could touch that forbidden thing.
Dago's robe flapped loudly in the frenzied currents, his hair whipping wildly.
Yet he was like an ancient reef standing tall through the ages, unmoved no matter how the wind and waves battered him.
In his eyes, there was only that ball of light.
His hesitation was swallowed in an instant by some deeper instinct.
A wizard's path had