As Mab, Garduck, and Mordred ambushed Titania in the dream world, Adam blinked above Oberon. His hammer flashed down in a crushing blow aimed at annihilating the concept of defense itself.
Winds roared behind the strike, and as he had expected, Oberon didn't raise his bow to parry despite the thick golden plates reinforcing it. Instead, he blurred into movement as mana erupted from his wings. Propelled forward, the fairy king strained his abdominal muscles to shift mid-air. Now facing Adam, reality swirled into a divine arrow. Compressed energy pulsed across its surface in multicolored waves as the air trembled around the tip.
Oberon snorted, his voice a forceful bellow reverberating through his ravaged capital. "I've heard you earlier. So, Mab taught you a thing or two about magic? I wager she told you how imagination could reshape mana to our wills. And that's precisely why neither of you will ever defeat me, especially in my domain. This is not bragging—it's an absolute truth."
