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Chapter 408 - Fighting II

He roared—and suddenly, the sky was gone. The entire realm warped into a mirror of his will: an endless expanse of white, empty and endless. From this place of origin, he dragged nine pale lances forged from the bones of collapsed galaxies, and hurled them all toward Asher in a flash.

Asher moved—not away, but into the attack.

His body blurred, veins lit with golden blood and starlight. One, two, three lances shattered as he twisted midair, scythe slicing them clean in two. The fourth grazed his shoulder, searing through his robes and cutting down to the bone—but he did not stop.

By the time the seventh lance arrived, he was above the white being's head.

"Fall."

Sanguine Art: Crimson Moon Guillotine.

The scythe expanded, its edge a burning eclipse of red and black. It fell with the weight of a star's death behind it. This time, the being didn't block.

He stepped aside.

And countered.

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