Juren's golden eyes narrowed until only thin slits remained.
The instincts honed through countless battles quietly sounded their warning inside his mind, because although the power before him could not compare to those terrifying yellow lightning strikes unleashed earlier by the dark elves, the attack still possessed a level of danger that no demigod could afford to ignore carelessly.
After brief observation, he concluded that the force in that attack had already stepped into the domain of a novice immortal, a low-eleven-star existence whose destructive power could not simply be brushed aside.
For a creature like him, whose greatest advantages had always been overwhelming offense and terrifying speed rather than defensive endurance.
Standing still and receiving such an attack head-on would be no different than a warrior choosing to catch a descending mountain with bare hands merely to prove courage, and courage without wisdom had always been another name for foolishness.
