Willow remained still for a few seconds, the echoes of shattered stone still ringing in her ears.
She couldn't take her eyes off Jonathan.
Her breath caught in her chest as she stared at him standing tall, unwavering, as if the colossal earth ball that Paul hurled at him was nothing more than a gust of wind.
He stopped it, He actually stopped it.
Her mind repeated those words over and over. It didn't feel real.
She had truly believed Paul's last attack would consume Jonathan—overwhelm him, crush him, maybe even leave him too broken to fight. She had seen what that skill had done to others. She knew the weight of it, the force, the sheer destruction it brought.
But Jonathan stood… untouched.
And not only had he stopped the attack, he had done it without fear, without hesitation. With nothing but that calm energy and one solid strike, he dismantled what should have been a match-ending move.
Willow's shock began to turn into something else—something warm, something steady.
