The smoke cleared, and Jack forcefully withstood a hit from the Holy Sword Form, roaring in anger at the white-haired one.
"It's useless! My damage reduction against the Demon Envoy is at 99%, you can't hurt me!"
The white-haired one looked over in despair, even the little hair sprout on their head drooped.
One trick should be enough; clearly relying on this move to become the book's symbol of absolute power, but now it's ineffective?!
The white-haired one helplessly looked to Shami for help.
On the hero's side.
Although Jack was mercilessly mocking the white-haired one, a faint sweat appeared on his face.
Even though 99% of the damage was reduced, when that hit was about to land on him, he could still feel a surge of danger approaching, instinctively dodging.
But he was still hit in part, and his half-resilience to this strike made him feel like he'd been punched hard by an iron fist, his whole chest stuffy for a while.
