The battlefield had already been torn asunder by Adams' immense power, but as the red-skinned man—the Ashura—charged toward him, a deeper sense of urgency permeated the air. The monstrous figure was a blur of crimson, his four arms swinging with deadly precision, each fist infused with dark, oppressive energy. His steps cracked the ground beneath him, sending shockwaves rippling outward as his immense power manifested in every movement.
Adams stood his ground, his golden eyes unwavering as the Ashura closed the distance. He could feel the immense power radiating from his opponent, but it did nothing to shake his resolve. With a swift movement, Adams sidestepped the first blow, a fist that tore through the air where his head had been only moments before. His body moved with fluid grace, each motion deliberate and calculated. But the Ashura was relentless.
