As soon as his feet hit
the ground, the marble ceiling above him broke away and
crashed to the floor. Dante spun out of the way at the last
possible moment.
Something's wrong. My reflexes are slowing.
Dante knew these traps should have been child's play for
him. But as each second passed, his body grew heavier. Or
maybe it was the air getting thicker. Each trap was that much
more difficult to avoid than the one before it. Dante's mind
raced furiously. Was he sick? Was it poison?
He couldn't recall anything. It's the room itself.
"Interesting plan, Chen!" He saw my reaction to Beryl's
enchanted bullets! He must have a machine capable of
draining magic. "It doesn't do much to these!"