Michael looked down at Caelan through the translucent golden chest of the Aegis Avatar, his smile unchanged, his bright eyes carrying something that wasn't quite respect but bordered on it. The hundred swords that had pinned his shadow were gone now, dissolved into nothing under the overwhelming brilliance of the construct's halo. Golden light poured off the avatar in waves, warming the air, casting long shadows that stretched across the ruined street.
"To make me use my bloodline ability," Michael said, his voice amplified by the avatar until it resonated like a cathedral bell. "You should feel proud of that, sword cultivator. Very few people in this generation have managed it."
