Soryntha's mouth opened wide, her body bowing into the shape of a 'U'. Spittle flew out first, followed by a torrent of blood. It felt like her organs—despite the inner armor she wore—were being churned inside out.
There had only been the slightest and most casual punch on Sylas' part, but the Runes that subtly propelled his action were only spotted by Zoryx. The latter's gaze couldn't help but narrow further, feeling that something was very much off.
Was someone like Sylas supposed to be capable of such expert Rune usage? Just… what was this?
Soryntha should have been sent flying on impact, but Sylas had wrapped her chain whip around his arm as she flew forward, using it as a ladder to grab onto her wrist and lock her in place. Right now, even if she let go of the chain whip, it wouldn't matter in the slightest.
Her vision swam, and her eyes watered not from frustration or sadness, but from pain.
