Deiora's cold gaze settled on Franc, the human who had dared to intercept his fist. A flicker of amusement passed through his face as he studied the trembling blade locked against his knuckles.
"You?" Deiora's voice rumbled, low and dismissive. "You want to stop me? Stop dreaming."
He pushed.
The force was immense—a sudden, brutal surge of power that drove through Franc's guard like a battering ram through rotted wood. Franc's arms screamed in protest, his muscles burning, his bones creaking under the weight of the demon's strength.
"Kuh—!" Franc's teeth clenched, his internal voice a sharp, desperate cry. 'His strength is overwhelming! I can't hold him—!'
The blade shattered.
Sparks of broken steel scattered across the clearing, fragments of Franc's sword spinning through the air like dying stars. Franc's eyes widened, his body still braced against the force of the impact—
