"End our lives? You arrogant brat!"
Butcher Kael didn't know what kind of magic Damien was using. But he didn't care.
He was a Peak 3rd Order warrior, known for his brute strength and cruelty. He had crushed skulls with his bare hands.
"Die!"
Kael lunged, swinging his massive, glowing red branding iron like a mace.
He aimed directly for Damien's head, putting every ounce of his mana into the strike.
Damien didn't dodge.
He simply raised his left hand, the one wreathed in the pitch-black smoke of the Midnight Tome.
CLANG!
The branding iron hit an invisible wall of solidified shadow inches from Damien's face.
The force of the blow created a shockwave that kicked up dust, but Damien's feet didn't move a millimeter.
"Is that it?" Damien asked, his voice bored.
He tilted his head. The golden slit in his right eye pulsed.
"Golden Dragon Art: King's Aura."
WHOOSH.
