The blow aimed for Minjun's chest carried such force that ribs would have shattered and breath would have fled if it landed.
But Minjun was no stranger to danger that came without warning. He had lived his life in waters that never rested, currents that twisted without mercy, storms that raged without end. His body swayed like the tide itself, shifting with natural grace.
The strike slid past him as though it had struck only the shadow of the sea. His trident spun in his hands, the polished shaft gleaming as it caught the monk's wrist, deflecting the force outward. The thunder cracked harmlessly into the open air, stirring Minjun's hair and the edges of his uniform but touching nothing else.
The crowd erupted in a wave of noise. "He deflected it!" voices shouted, awe and disbelief echoing through the stands.
