What Damian threw flew a few miles across the open air, crossing the distance between the mountain and the approaching enemies in a matter of seconds that felt like an eternity to the young man who watched through senses that perceived Mana itself.
The log filled with his raging power, hardened by his Mana into something closer to stone than wood, flashed toward its target with speed that made mockery of distance and reaction time alike!
Oh!
The Bone Tempering Warrior leading that group never saw it coming.
He was focused forward, his serpentine-influenced eyes scanning the tribe ahead for threats, his mind occupied with the task his mistress had assigned. He was thinking about which huts to search first, which women to take, how to extract information about whoever had killed Lukaku and the Butcher.
He wasn't thinking about the sky.
He wasn't watching for attacks from miles away.
He wasn't prepared for what came next!
The log connected with his face!
BZZT!
