Leonel's legs hung weakly in the air, his face slowly turning red as Lamorak's hand clamped down on his throat.
It felt as though his whole body was washed by pain. It was an endless torrent that rammed through his senses like a tsunami, crashing through his mind in a repetitive, infinite cycle.
In his current state, lasting without oxygen for tens of minutes at a time, though difficult, wouldn't be impossible. However, having one's throat clamped down wasn't just about oxygen, it was also about blood flow.
Leonel felt his head becoming light, the pounding headache he had earned himself after his Soul Force ran dry was only getting worse. Yet, maybe in an odd twist of fate, he could just barely ignore because its level of pain was nothing compared to what was happening to the rest of his body.
Lamorak became irrationally enraged, staring toward Leonel's unwavering gaze.