The Kabal leader before him suddenly narrowed his eyes. Rather than ask why like some rookie faced with a move he did not understand, he immediately abandoned his sword.
With one hand, he drew a pistol from his waist and aimed it; with the other, he drew a dagger and thrust at the Duke of Shadow Blades' vitals. Yet under his attack, the Duke of Shadow Blades shattered like foam.
"A psychic illusion?" the Kabal leader finally said in surprise.
"An illusion?" The scattered foam gathered into the Duke of Shadow Blades again. "What is an illusion? And what is reality? We are all mortals. Who is to say the reality before us is not an illusion laid by some higher being to imprison us?"
"Enough tricks! Everyone, attack! Kill him first, then find the Control Terminal!" the Kabal leader roared.
The Drukhari surrounding the Duke of Shadow Blades immediately launched their attacks. They were all Drukhari elites, and they had made every possible preparation to face him alone.
Even if the Duke of Shadow Blades were not a man but a Humanoid Greater Daemon, these elites were enough to kill him. Even if he could resurrect, they could kill him again.
Yet none of their varied, multicolored attacks struck the Duke of Shadow Blades.
This time, the Duke of Shadow Blades did not dissolve into foam, but none of the attacks harmed him, whether energy or physical, searing hot or freezing cold, piercing or explosive.
More precisely, not a single attack could get close to his skin.
It seemed some strange magic was at work. Every attack vanished, blades turned to dust, and energy was annihilated in an instant.
Standing amid the attacks, the Duke of Shadow Blades seemed like an inviolable god.
Every attacker was stunned by the