His first strike, a simple straight punch, shattered the Lich's hasty guard and sent the undead lord skidding across the dirt roads. The second, a wild haymaker that should have been easy to dodge, somehow curved in mid-air as his aura bent space around it, catching the Lich in the ribs with a crack like breaking timber.
"Impossible," the Lich gasped, dark ichor leaking from the corner of his mouth. "Such crude technique cannot—"
A knee to the solar plexus cut off his words and lifted him clear off his feet. As he fell, Jaenor's elbow met the back of his skull, driving him face-first into the stone.
But the Lich was far from finished.
Even as he hit the ground, death energy exploded outward from his body in all directions. Jaenor's enhanced reflexes got him clear of the worst of it, but the expanding wave of decaying force withered plants, cracked stone, and left the very air feeling hollow and dead.
"Enough games," the Lich snarled, rising to his feet.
