Sylas didn't reply, his Will blooming. His skin practically began to glow as though it were its own emerald gem, sparks of lightning spontaneously forming in bolts and waves.
He slowly loosened his grip over his own wrist, and he clenched a fist.
The punch that followed seemed to move the world itself.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
One iteration after another was shattered to pieces, and the True Sloth Disciple's pupils constricted into pinholes. How—?
The punch landed on his chest.
The time between the fist landing and the True Sloth Disciple feeling his back against the wall wasn't even a split second. It almost felt as though they had happened at the exact same time.
His cloak was peeled off, revealing the face of a man who would have been extraordinarily handsome if not for how unkempt he was.
