Divron's fist—claws extended—went right through Fenrir's head... Or at least, that's what he thought.
"...!"
The next moment, he realized something was wrong. Despite being frozen by the residual electricity still crawling across her skin, sparking faintly with every twitch, Fenrir had still managed to tear open a rift before her face. The fist that should have struck her warped instead, redirected to the other side—slamming straight into Divron's own back!
Once again, he had attacked, and ended up injuring himself instead.
His mind went blank, his thoughts grinding to a halt for one brief, disbelieving moment.
Then, a vein bulged on top of his forehead.
"No good!"
Axel realized what was happening and rushed to Fenrir's side. Without missing a beat, he deployed one of his trump cards—something he'd had the dwarves craft specifically for a moment like this.
