The collision between my God Flash: Absolute and Vorgath's casual defense wasn't so much a meeting of forces as it was a brief, one-sided conversation. My attack—the culmination of everything I had, everything I was, compressed into a single perfect moment of martial expression—met his axe.
And stopped.
Not dramatically. Not with some cosmic explosion or reality-shattering backlash. It just... ceased. Like a wave breaking against a cliff face, all that power and momentum simply dissipated, leaving nothing behind but a faint ripple in the air.
Vorgath hadn't even swung his axe. He'd merely raised it, letting my strike land. Evolis, glowing with Purelight, touched the edge of his weapon and could go no further.
"Hmm," Vorgath said. Just that. One syllable containing more evaluation than most doctoral dissertations.
