In that split second, his focus broke—Victor saw it.
The strike was not wild.
Victor stepped inside the Supreme's open flank and drove his fist upward into the precise point beneath the rib cage that the Supreme had exposed when he turned.
Not brute force.
The impact landed deep, forcing a sharp, involuntary expulsion of breath from the Supreme.
Victor struck again, hammering the Supreme's jaw with Felicity's amplified power.
Bone cracked like a frozen branch beneath a winter boot.
The sound—wet, sharp, final—echoed in the sudden silence.
The Supreme staggered sideways, his expression flickering between disbelief and fury. This wasn't happening. Couldn't be happening. Not to him.
His knees betrayed him, folding inward like paper sculptures in rain.Victor looked down at him as if he were a maggot. "You don't get to breathe the same air as her without my permission."
Blood, thick and royal, spilled from his mouth, staining the floor with mortality.
