The man flew through the air like a missile, slammed into a half-buried warship, and bounced off the wreckage with a grunt. He flipped, caught himself midair, then landed with a skid—boots carving twin trails in the metal floor.
Blood ran down his chin.
Adam didn't move.
He cracked his knuckles and looked around the desolate battlefield. Ruined towers. Collapsed hulls. Empty husks of forgotten ships.
Perfect playground.
The man roared and lunged again, sword dragging behind him, sparks flying off the edge as it carved the ground. He swung—a wide, brutal arc.
Adam raised a finger.
CLANG.
A giant metallic hammer formed in an instant, catching the blade. The impact sent a shockwave that shattered nearby debris. Adam tossed the hammer up and let it hover.
With a flick of his hand, two more weapons formed behind him—one, a jagged spear that shimmered with lightning; the other, a blade made entirely of clear crystal, humming like a tuning fork.
The man didn't back down.
