The air around the deep pit froze. Every gaze locked on the man in the coffin who had suddenly opened his eyes, hearts pounding so violently they felt ready to burst.
Those eyes were bottomless—carrying centuries of coldness and killing intent. One glance sent a chill down the spine.
Then an even more shocking scene unfolded.
The man moved, rising from the crystal coffin as if weightless. Without a single sound he floated upward, stopping half a meter above the pit.
Sunlight poured over his white robe, outlining a tall, slender frame. A faint halo clung to him, like a god descending from legend. He looked down at the crowd with indifference and disdain, as though at a swarm of ants.
Tristan, Matthias, and Nathaniel exchanged glances and saw the same suspicion and fear reflected back.
That pressure. That otherworldly aura. It far surpassed anything they had imagined.
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