Two different energies clashed, neither willing to yield even a single inch to the other. Max could taste hot iron flooding his mouth, warm blood slipping past his lips as the recoil tore through him.
Every muscle in his body screamed in pain, straining to the point of rupture under the sheer impact.
His void armor had already begun to tear away from him in ragged fragments as the winds pushed back, the sheer amount of mana packed into the old man's attack proving difficult even for him to devour.
The green storm raged before him like a wall of living destruction. It did not simply resist him. It hacked at him, bit into him, tore across his flesh like countless razor blades, each current sharp enough to skin a man alive. His arms trembled. His legs dug deeper into the shattered ground. Even breathing became agony.
But Max pushed harder.
