Volk's powerful arm hung in the air, frozen mid-swing, his fingers so close to Bong Me-Eon's face he could practically feel the heat radiating from her skin.
Yet he couldn't move, couldn't bring his fist down, couldn't finish them.
He gritted his teeth, straining with every ounce of strength to force his arm to obey him. But it was no use; his entire body was locked in place, as if bound by chains unseen.
He growled, his frustration boiling over.
"SYSTEM?" he roared internally, the rage simmering in his mind.
His heart thudded as he tried to shake his limbs free, but every muscle seemed encased in iron.
That system had been silent through all this—through every smash, every kill, every ounce of power he had drawn to crush the pathetic enemies at his feet.
Now, just now when he was about to finish it? Now, the system intervened?
"WHAT… WHAT IS THIS?!"
Volk's deep voice rumbled, barely a whisper through clenched teeth.
