[h2][center]Sabu[/center][/h2]
"Hm?" It seemed that one of the younglings was doubting his illustrious ancestry. Well, he would humor the child a bit, then. The prospect of showing off a bit more certainly wasn't something he was about to complain about.

[color=f7976a]"Gahaha! You must not have been paying attention during my bout with the General, eh?"[/color] Sabu remarked with a brazen laugh, indicating the human woman who had been nearby only to realize that she had already left to head back to the human town. Shrugging off the momentary lapse, he continued on, not seeming to even acknowledge the newborn's mention of his own Gift. Why would he do anything involving that when he had a much better-looking method at his disposal? 

[color=f7976a]"Well, I suppose I can give a more involved demonstration. I don't usually employ this sort of thing in combat since it takes a bit too long to prepare for my taste, and the efficiency of it's much lower compared to what you saw earlier, but I can always use it as a little demonstration. Ah, you should probably take a few steps back, though."[/color]

[b][color=f7976a]"Explode, Potential Release."[/color][/b]

After speaking, that same red fog started to emanate from Sabu's body, his muscles tensing. The air around him grew thick with a form of power far distinct from the faint air of the forest's Lord that permeated his domain. For a moment, the Goblin's eyes changed, a glint entering them that was removed from his prior demeanor, one of a tyrannical indifference that faded as soon as it had appeared. 

Space [i]bent[/i]. That silhouette that had taken shape behind him during the earlier spar once more appeared, but this time its shape was less hazy. Its immaterial form was made visible through the red fog, scales glinting and a hundred heads writhing. With its appearance, with its roar that shook the air, a "pressure" that was practically palpable manifested. It was not mere physical force, no, it was something beyond that. An attack on the soul, the force of subjugation, the nature of the "king of beasts" that demanded the subordination of all those before it. A speck in the hand of a bodhisattva, a mortal staring into the depths of an eyeless god, it was a tyrannical power that could tautologically be called nothing but tyrannical.

If Redd had not, in fact, chosen to step away from Sabu then he would have been forced to his knees by the pressure, bones creaking under the strain as the very act of thought became momentarily impossible. The others would not be nearly so affected, but would nearly be paralyzed; merely breathing felt like an ordeal, and attempting to move even slightly would be almost impossible without putting their all into it. Even the chief seemed to be affected in some regard, albeit not nearly as much.

And just as quickly as the image had appeared, it vanished, the pressure lifting and the red fog receding back into Sabu's body.

[color=f7976a]"Gahaha! Quite impressive for a 'bed-time story', no?"[/color]

At this point, his grin could be said to have adopted qualities that those of another world would likely call "shit-eating".