The mace swept through the chaos with a weight that tore the surrounding currents, its path laid out in absolute, inescapable judgment, coated in bizarre lightning that seemed to anchor chaos leaving no room to dodge.
Layton didn't dodge.
He stepped directly into the arc of the swing, taking the direct impact on his forearm. Metal struck bone, releasing a shockwave that rippled through chaos, but Layton's newly forged soul, focused purely on slaughter refused to yield. The lightning riding the mace, thick with Punishment, Wrath, and Misfortune, surged into his form, fighting with the pure killing intent that surged in his physical form.
