Ember's aura glowed—not literally, but those who saw it could feel the pressure. Like there was a giant hand pressing on their chests. Like the air around them suddenly became a hundred times heavier.
Her eyes. Those eyes glowed a faint red. Not fire red, not blood red—but red like a mana crystal heated until it glowed.
Father Geryon froze in place. His mouth was still open, ready to hurl the next curse. But no sound came out. He could only stare at Ember—and for the first time in his life, he felt... small.
"Demos are allowed." Ember's voice was calm. Not high, not low. But every word sounded like a hammer hitting an anvil. Clear. Firm. Undeniable.
"Damaging property? Not allowed."
"Inciting violence? Not allowed."
"Using God's name to justify destruction? Not allowed."
