It was a punch delivered with force and velocity so far beyond reason that even a native of Valandar's caliber couldn't have braced for it. Before he could so much as react, his face caved inward, his skull flattening thinner than a sheet of A4 paper.
The only reason his head didn't explode on the spot told Jake the blow wouldn't kill him. The density and elasticity of Evolvers and cultivators like them had nothing in common with ordinary flesh and bone.
'Sorry about that,' Jake apologized inwardly, his expression utterly devoid of remorse. 'Hopefully you'll take a little nap and this'll all be over by the time you wake up.'
He had poured in as much Red Aether of Strength as Twyluxia's loosening laws would currently allow, layered it with his Fate Slayer Aura, and mixed in a cocktail of other energies only he could wield—each one tailored to sabotage regeneration.
