Atticus and Whisker fixed their gazes on the figure radiating a blinding light standing high on the cliff.
The entire island had been enveloped in his golden brilliance, and he looked down at the world as though everything was beneath him.
"Why am I not surprised," Whisker chuckled, feeling the aura of dominance pressing down on him.
'It's almost as large as my star actor's.'
He thought with a serious gaze. Whisker could feel it, Ozeroth's Will was sturdy, almost as sturdy as Atticus's.
'It's their bond.'
He had expected as much. In a sense, Ozeroth's Will was supposed to surpass Atticus's. But because of their bond, it had been suppressed to an equal level. However… he had noticed something else.
'it's not as potent.'
Whisker could feel Ozeroth's concept. The man's eyes said it all.
Pride.
That egoistic feeling, one that meant he was lesser than none.
Although it was not overwhelming, Whisker could feel the effects of his Will. His gaze narrowed.
