Ian's sword was already close to Viscount Awak's eyes, the blade enshrouded in frost and Nether breath approached, carrying the icy breath of death.
Viscount Awak himself didn't seem to realize the swift strike, but his body, or rather, the Dead River Armament covering his body, spontaneously raised its hand, using the blood blade on the arm armor to block the strike.
Accompanied by a loud boom and surging shock waves back and forth, the strike that Ian carried, which had enough momentum to break through strategic shields, was deflected, and he floated in midair, while the Dead River Armament merely stepped back slightly, leaving a deep dent on the floor of the laboratory's top level.
—So fast.
Watching his own body automatically defend against the enemy's attack, Viscount Awak had this thought flash through his mind, but what followed was a wave of shame and annoyance.
Undoubtedly, this was the Deceased Monarch's power... and it should have belonged to him!
"Thief, thief!"
