The air changed.
It was not a spell in the normal sense. There was no circle beneath Ludwig's feet, no mana flooding the chamber, no incantation shaping the world through structured command. The change was quieter than that, but far more offensive to something like Sister Gallows. It pressed outward from Ludwig in a way that made the spinning wards around the floating core stutter for a fraction of a second. The glowing blood lines on the floor pulsed unevenly, as if the ritual itself had felt a stronger law pass too close to it.
Gallows noticed immediately.
Her smile vanished. The chakrams in her hands lowered by a fraction, not from fear, but from disbelief sharp enough to cut through her anger. Her eyes fixed on Ludwig with a kind of hatred that did not belong to the fight itself. It was older. More personal. More wounded.
"Authority…" she whispered.
The word tasted vile coming from her mouth.
Ludwig did not answer.
