A simple arrow fell to the ground and turned into shattered, crystal-clear energy fragments, silently dissipating.
The Mystical Mage looked up at Lind but suddenly noticed that Lind, who should have already "died," suddenly moved his neck.
The bleeding wound on his chest rapidly sprouted flesh buds, weaving as if an invisible shuttle was quickly darting through the wound.
The flesh on his arm, which had burst open like a blooming flower, was also crawling back to the bone, layer by layer wrapping itself up.
The complex mystic crest on his chest, now devoid of armor, was flashing urgently.
Lind charged in front of the Mystical Mage, raised his left hand, clenched his fist.
A punch landed.
"Boom!"
No matter what armor the opponent wore, standing unguarded before a close combatant was an insult to a Knight, deserving a few heavy punches.
The Magic Resistance Armor instantly caved in, leaving a punch imprint large enough to cover the upper body.
