Even though he managed to block the strike, it didn't change much.
Technically, not dying was an improvement.
But the collision sent a violent shockwave through the blade that rattled every bone in Revan's arms. His feet hadn't even touched the ground yet — he was still mid-air from the swing — and the raw force behind the impact launched him forward.
'Shit, this is so heavy.'
His hands shot upward, the sword nearly ripped from his grip, his body folding around the momentum as the fog blurred past him.
He flew far. Three meters, maybe four. With the thick fog making it hard to gauge visually, the only way to estimate the distance was by counting the fractions of a second he remained airborne.
It was just enough time in the air for his brain to scream one command at his body before impact.
