“Pffft—!”
Blood sprayed across the air like a crimson arc.
Logan was struck as if by an ancient mountain. The impact shattered the remnants of his barrier and hurled him across the hall. He slammed into the white jade floor with bone-cracking force, rolling over a dozen times before finally stopping—barely propping himself up on one knee, his sword trembling under his grip.
The blade wailed, its spiritual light flickering weakly, nearly extinguished. The energy he had just regained splintered apart again, his aura unraveling into chaos. His chest burned like molten iron, his abdomen felt frozen in eternal ice, and his very soul screamed—torn apart by invisible blades. The pain was so fierce it nearly drowned his consciousness.
Aukon’s dual-elemental powers—metal and fire—weren’t simply added together. They fused into something far worse: a qualitative transformation that shattered every rule of balance.
“To withstand seventy percent of my Sky-Splitting Slash and God-Burning Fist…” Aukon’s tone was icy, almost bored, as he advanced step by step. “That’s enough for you to brag about in the Yellow Springs.”
Every step he took erased the ground beneath his feet—matter disintegrating into nothingness.
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