Vines as thick as an infant's arm slowly crawled their way toward Lucas' thigh.
His face paled as he tried to pull his feet out of their way, but it was to no avail.
Lucas had always been proud of his strength—in terms of mundane standards. However, it was only at this moment that he realized how insignificant it was—truly—in the grand scheme of things.
In such an important time, his strength, which he was so proud of, could not even rip off the vines that it had entangled to.
As he stared at the vines, he could not help but notice that they were moving upward. Now, they had already reached his thigh, and soon, they would eventually reach his torso. The vines moved with intellect, as if they wanted to devour him whole.
