"GRAAAH!" Bruga grunted, his eyes flashing with irritation rather than pain.
Before Sol could even complete his landing, Bruga's dense, slate-grey physical essence surged straight into the open wounds.
The muscle fibers quivered, the blood instantly cauterized, and the deep gashes sealed up like wet clay being smoothed over by a trowel!
"I TOLD YOU! YOUR LITTLE SCRATHES CAN'T REACH MY BONES!" Bruga screamed, swinging his elbow backward like a rising battering ram.
The giant's elbow clipped Sol's side. Even a glancing blow from a Layer 4 warlord carrying atmospheric weight was catastrophic.
CRACK!
Even though his black armor had absorbed most of the impact, he still felt two of his lower ribs fracture instantly.
He was hurled sideways, skidding fifty feet across the white slate like a skipped stone, leaving a dark trail of his own blood along the gravel before he drove Zeyra's daggers deep into the rock to anchor his sliding body.
