The forest no longer resembled a forest. At least, the area they currently occupied which was a tiny portion of the entire forest.
What had once been dense, layered greenery with roots knotted deep into ancient soil, trunks thick with centuries of growth, was being systematically erased. Not by magic. Not by storms.
By fists. Fists full of magic essence!
Damien and the demon collided again, the impact detonating through the clearing like a thunderclap. The shockwave blasted outward, flattening shrubs, ripping leaves from branches, and snapping thinner trees clean in half.
Garrick, watching from far behind, had long since retreated even farther, instinct screaming at him that this battlefield was no place for a human to stand.
This wasn't a fight.
It was a contest.
A brutal, unforgiving comparison of physical supremacy.
