Vael'Kriss did not rush. It simply moved—and pressure changed.
A crushing weight slammed into Leon from every direction. Not a spell. Not a skill. Just pure environmental dominance.
Leon's breath seized in his lungs. His blood slowed. Even Shell Pulse felt… lagged.
He grounded himself using Karmic Loop, channeling his tension outward to reinforce his bone structure and breathing with deliberate cadence.
The Wyrmarch circled, creating whirlpools of bone and vapor.
Then it struck.
A tendril of compressed seawater, sharper than a blade, whipped toward Leon. He blocked using Shell Reverb—but the moment the force was stored, Vael'Kriss dissolved into mist, denying him the opportunity to return it.
"That's new," Leon hissed, adjusting his stance.
Vael'Kriss dove back in, now attacking in pulses—appearing at random vectors around Leon, striking with limbs and pressure claws.
Leon couldn't rely on brute counters anymore.
