Leonel felt a heaviness on his chest. He suddenly found that it was several times more difficult to breathe as though all the oxygen in the air had been sucked away by some unknown force.
"Speak, boy." Lamorak's words grated against Leonel's ears, beating them like a drum. It felt like his head might explode if he listened too closely. "Or else, I'll slaughter you where you stand."
Lamorak and Aliard were immediately on guard. A normal talent was always something to celebrate. But, if a talent was too monstrous, rather than being a joyous occasion, it would cross over and become something completely different.
A body rivaling that of a knight of the round table? A Spirit Pressure rivaling that of a Three Star Magus?
Rather than truly believing that Leonel was such a genius, it made more sense to believe that he was a hidden evil with bad intentions. It was simply impossible for someone so young to have such ability. There had to be another explanation.
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