That guy and his so-called unbreakable iron legs met Ethan's casual kick head-on.
The sharp crack rang out, echoing across the battlefield and straight into everyone's ears. Those iron legs that had made him famous on the Dark List did not shatter heroically or resist even for a heartbeat. They folded inward, collapsing like wet branches snapped underfoot.
The smug expression on the man's face twisted instantly into pure agony. His mouth opened, breath drawn for a scream that never had the chance to fully escape. Ethan's leg, the one already driving in from behind, never slowed.
Boom.
There was a wet, sickening explosion. The man did not go flying. Under normal circumstances, a kick like that would have launched him halfway across the field like a rag doll struck by a battering ram. Ethan's kick was different. It was sharp, precise, weighted like a blade forged from solid steel and loaded with impossible force. The impact split the man cleanly in half at the waist.
