"Did you think I wouldn't have something against your race's trump card before I engage in battle?"
The moment Zyros heard those words, he widened his eyes in horror. He wanted to move, but it was already too late.
Tap
Before Zyros could react, Nux raised his hand and placed his palm gently against Zyros's chest.
The motion was deceptively simple, almost too gentle—completely different from the violent, bloodied blows that had defined their battle so far.
Zyros was confused, thinking whatever Nux was planning didn't work.
And then it happened.
Whoosh
Zyros was pushed back.
"W-What…?"
He was in disbelief.
He… He was moving…
His eyes then fell on something…
"T-That's…"
It was his body that remained standing, rigid and lifeless.
"…me?"
Zyros blinked, looking down at his hands, only to find them semi-transparent and glowing faintly.
