It was holy energy, yet it was also something more. A fusion of his will, his swordsmanship, his breathing, his movement, and the very essence of his soul.
Reinhardt exhaled slowly. The air around him shimmered, not from heat, but from the sheer density of power compressing and expanding in perfect rhythm. His body no longer felt the strain. The pain had not vanished, but it no longer mattered. It had become part of the flow.
The moment Reinhardt stepped into the realm of [Harmony and Dissonance], the battle changed. It became a one-sided suppression.
Mammon's gigantic fist descended, carrying enough force to shatter a mountain. Facing this, Reinhardt merely glanced at it. Then his body shifted half a step. The terrifying punch skimmed past his shoulder without so much as a scratch.
Before Mammon could react, a holy slash carrying an extreme amount of holy energy flashed. In that instant, Mammon's instincts screamed danger, but it was already too late.
