Rughsbourgh had certainly not expected an ordinary beast to be so damn strong. A groove was carved into the ground in the wake of their terrible clash—stone split, debris scattered. Not just that, the heinous creature had nearly torn his limb off before he sliced it with a spatial strike. Amusingly, the monster sensed the space fracturing and vanished off him with that astounding speed.
Rughsbourgh stood, looking down at his best clothes, which were now no different from rags. One sleeve had been ripped apart from the shoulder, and several torn pieces of his upper garment hung loose, ruined.
He grabbed the torn sleeve and ripped it off completely, then did the same to the ensemble covering his upper body. Everything gave way easily within his grip, releasing an addictive tearing sound.
His upper body was revealed as the last scraps fell away—impeccable muscle alignment that made him look more like sculpted stone than flesh.
