The Demon King's body hurtled backward like a severed kite cast adrift in the wind, his frame crashing against the towering structure behind him. The building crumbled upon impact, collapsing in a torrent of stone and steel that rained down like rain.
Yet, from the wreckage, he emerged with an unsettling composure. His form was immaculate, untouched, neither dust nor debris dared to cling to him, as though the world itself feared to mar his presence.
His gaze fixed upon Anthony and the two newcomers.
Then, he moved.
A single step.
Another.
And another still, each carrying an ominous gravity until his pace quickened, breaking into a full sprint that tore through the air like a predator descending upon its prey.
Anthony, Aaaninja, and Lucian mirrored his advance, their steps deliberate at first, before instinct and battle intent drove them into a sprint of their own.
