her eyes taking in the devastation. The lab was a wr

d on a cracked metal workbench, his chest heaving.

e-the rage in his silver-gray eyes was instantly repla

scaped his throat, the so

essure of his S-Class spiritual power descended on her

in her bones. She bit her lip, straightened her sp

ith mockery. "Well, well. Look what the storm dragged in. To what do I owe the hon

now: the way the former heiress had used her own spiritual power to whip this m

red at him, her gaze calm and piercing, taking

the same look of detached pity she used to give him, t

throat. He slammed her back against th

air. Her hands clawed at his wrist, but his

of his coarse shirt. The sound of tearing f

d with old, faded scars. Whip marks. Every single

ed back a step. Then, he did somet

f

flesh, and blood began to seep through his trousers, but he didn't seem to feel it. He just ti

d out, his voice trembling. "The final j

piritual energy. The lights overhead flicker

he safest path. She carefully cleared a small patch of the shattered glass with the side of her boot before she knelt directly in front of him, feeling the sha

cutting aura of his chaotic energy, an

ay. But her palms were warm. A warmth he had c

lver eyes. She gathered all her strength an

sor

nt rigid. The collapse of his spiritua

the time

ned forward, and pressed h