Glaze

As the Spirit King arrived, he neither unleashed his aura nor uttered a single word.

He simply hovered in silence, his figure suspended in the air.

Yet, his mere presence was enough.

His gaze alone was enough.

In that moment, all who bore witness, whether Human, Goblin, Celestial, or Voidwalker, felt it.

It transcended race, power, and will.

A singular, crushing truth weighed upon them all.

FUTILITY.

Even to be called an ant before such a presence would have been a compliment.

The Spirit King's mere existence commanded absolute submission.

It mattered not how powerful they were, how ancient their souls, or how noble their lineage.

Before him, all fell to their knees.

Not by force, nor by will, but by the undeniable weight of his presence.

Their very souls trembled, urging them to bow, to praise, to revere.