Seeing the earth shards rushing toward him at breathtaking speed, Orien clicked his tongue in irritation.
Tsk, troublesome...
But instead of retreating, he charged straight into the barrage. His pupils twisted into spiraling red and black, and the world around him seemed to sink into molasses. Every shard, every fluctuation of mana, every minute shift in trajectory became painfully clear to him.
He stepped on the air itself, using compressed demonic energy as footholds, twisting his body at impossible angles as he slipped through the gaps between the shards. His movements were sharp yet controlled, as if he were dancing through a storm he had already memorized.
One spike still managed to scrape across his stomach, tearing flesh and drawing blood. The wound burned for an instant before demonic energy surged through it, sealing it shut within seconds.
Tsk...
