The moment Aboli's words fell, her body was already before Sylus. She raised her hand, intending to return the same strike he had dealt her moments ago.
But Sylus quickly dodged, seizing her arm in his grip. He squeezed tightly, and Aboli could hear her own bones creaking and splintering beneath the pressure.
"We don't need to fight like this. You can leave, and I'll spare you," Sylus said.
His hair was in disarray, his face smeared with dirt and ash. His words carried none of the charm of a romantic hero.
Aboli looked at him and burst into laughter.
"You might be the stupidest man I've ever seen! A fool who underestimates his enemy deserves the most miserable death!"
With that, she suddenly wrenched her arm free. But because both Aboli and Sylus possessed monstrous strength, her arm was shredded in the struggle—torn apart into a mess of flesh and bone.
