Bloody Chariot was lost in that terrified daze.
He didn't know when he got up and came back to the cottage. Or when he finished his porridge… he stayed up the whole night thinking about what Parth had done.
That strike in particular. The one that hit him on the chest and sent him flying… surprisingly, it didn't hurt him.
Not even a bruise was on his body. It was clean… as if the force had only intended to push him and wake him up. That faint pain that he felt at the start and almost stopped his heart was the only damage it had done.
That was even more shocking because… if Parth intended, he could have easily bypassed his flesh and bone, and hit his heart directly, without so much as using even little bit of his energy.
Not even so much as a fluctuation.
Bloody Chariot had an existential crisis.
