For Damon, who had spent seven years controlling events from the shadows, this might have been the first time he was genuinely powerless. And that loss of control was probably scaring him more than the disappearance itself.
Ranar was a Fourth-Class prodigy who had never truly faced real danger.
Ric was clever and resourceful, but vastly weaker.
Neither side could immediately reach them.
The barrier had isolated them from every adult who normally protected them.
And Damon was really sweating now. After seven years of maintaining an endless winning streak, perhaps he was finally about to lose.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, his shadow writhing beneath his feet like a living sea. His normally calm expression had long since disappeared, replaced by a rare look of frustration. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as his fingers repeatedly tapped against his arm.
"Damn Deathless, you better not be targeting my kids."
