The Fourth-Rank didn't even have time to scream.
His body was ripped off the ground and hurled sideways, slamming into the stone floor like a broken doll. The impact echoed across the arena, a deep, hollow sound that vibrated through the walls. Cracks spiderwebbed outward from where he landed, and dust rose into the air in a slow, suffocating cloud.
Zylus stood still.
"So fragile," he muttered, tilting his head slightly, "all that power, all that rank… and your body still obeys my significant strength.
The Fourth-Rank tried to push himself up. His arm shook violently, muscles spasming as if they no longer remembered their purpose. His fingers scraped uselessly against the stone before giving out completely.
Chris clenched his jaw.
"That's enough," he said, finally stepping forward, his voice no longer calm, "this ends now, Zylus Elwis."
Zylus slowly turned his gaze toward him.
