But so am I. With so many injuries, one after another, barely giving any time to heal before they’re split open again; before new ones form, I’m wastingmostof my energy on simply existing.
I haven’t hit him once.
Not. Even. Once.
My fingers claw into the broken stone.
I force one arm upward. It trembles. Then collapses.
“Nyk! Get up! Please!” Moe’s voice echoes in my ears, even though my eardrums are halfway destroyed. Her words loop around my brain, triggering something inside of me.
I roar and drive both arms beneath me, every muscle in my body straining until veins stand out along my neck. My shoulders feel like they’ll tear apart. My legs lock. My knees rise from the floor.
The pressure bears down harder.
Seeing me withstand his power, his calm is broken. He lets out a rough snarl, his mouth twisted to the side.
I barely stand. My legs are wobbly. My mind a little foggy. But I stand.
I might not have some fancy abilities but I do have something he doesn’t have and he willneverhave.
I have something I’m fighting for.
Moe. She’s my one reason.
His eyes widen as I rise. And when his shock is at its zenith, I lunge.
He tries to throw me back, but his abilities have weakened significantly. The pressure still hurts, but it’s nowhere near what it was before.
No, this time, my resolve is stronger.
I keep moving, forcing myself forward through the crushing weight one staggering step at a time. Every movement feels like I’m dragging the weight of a thousand men behind me.
Ten steps… Nine… Eight…
With each step I take, his fatigue becomes more pronounced. His breathing turns ragged. The whites of his eyes turn crimson as he strains to use his force one last time.
Something gives way. It’s like a snap—perhaps some bone inside my body breaks, though that wouldn’t be a first. But within seconds, the pressure from before is gone. My limbs become light, my body finally able to move properly.
His energy is depleted.
I explode forward, my wounds knitting together just as I throw myself at him.
He tries one last desperate gravitational blast, but it’s mere air that slides through my hair.
With nothing to stop my advance, I slam into him with the full force of my body.
We crash together and tumble across the fractured stone. He strikes wildly, but his focus is gone now. No gravity. No invisible force. Just fists.
He might be a big male, butbecauseof his domain, he must have never learned how to properly fight—body to body.
His fists are poor attempts at punches, never meeting their target.
I seize his wrist, wrench it aside, and drive my blade into his throat.
Hot blood spills over my hand.
His body jerks once. Twice. Then he stills.
