Chapter 299: Sparring With a Landslide
The first strike came fast—too fast for an Emperor, too fast for a spar.
Max barely blocked it, their wrists clashing with a resonant crack that echoed through the hall like a gunshot. The wards shimmered for a breath, then absorbed the surge of ether like water soaking into stone.
Damian didn't pause. He moved like water cutting through silk—clean, unrelenting, precise. His footwork was honed through years of battlefield instinct, not showy or elegant, just lethal. He threw another strike, low and sweeping, and Max pivoted just in time, catching the blow on the outside of his forearm and countering with a sharp elbow toward Damian's ribs.
The Emperor sidestepped.
Max blinked.
A faint smile curved Damian's mouth. "Slower than I remember."
Max's hand flared with violet light, launching a narrow arc of ether at Damian's head. "Go to hell."
