Before Frey could unleash anything else, Amon decided to finish it.
He moved his hand.
A grim sign that made both Gehrman and Abraham stiffen instantly.
"That—!"
It was the same ultra-high-speed strike.
"Damn it! Get away from him, Frey!" Abraham shouted at the top of his lungs.
Amon's smile widened.
"Too late."
At that moment, it felt as though time itself froze as Amon threw his punch toward Frey.
The strike was monstrously fast .. faster even than Gehrman.
At Frey's current level, he should have been incapable of either enduring such an attack or dodging it.
Amon was certain of his victory.
Even Gehrman and Abraham saw the shadow of defeat looming on the horizon.
But in less than a fraction of a second ...
The demon's smile shattered.
"…Huh?" A hoarse sound escaped Amon's throat as he realized his devastating punch had struck nothing but empty air.
His fist had missed.
"He—" Amon muttered, as Abraham and Gehrman spoke in unison:
"He dodged it?!"
