With a buzz, the crimson sphere trembled violently, releasing a thick red mist that quickly spread toward Felix.

He didn't know exactly what it was, but he wasn't stupid. If it touched him, his chances of survival would plummet.

With a thought, the Inkspire Quill appeared in his hand. He casually sketched a few strokes in the air. At first glance, it seemed useless, but Felix knew better. This was one of his trump cards.

If the Inkspire Quill didn't work, he'd have to resort to one of the techniques from the Phaeron Codex.

"Ahh! What did you do? What kind of soul-bounded weapon is that?"

A pained voice echoed through the room, filled with agony, as if something was corroding its very soul.

The red shield that had been clashing evenly with Lumen, as well as the crimson threads attacking Infinite Shield, all faltered, their movements becoming erratic. Even the mist, which had been expanding relentlessly, began to retract.

Felix wasn't about to waste this opportunity. Lumen shot fo