Ethan froze for a split second.
His black-particle form had never failed him.
Stone Golems, mechanoids, even abyss-enhanced monsters—if there was energy flowing through their structure, he could ride those pathways in, seep through the "veins," and collapse everything from the inside.
But this time—
He'd been stopped cold.
The sensation was brutally clear, like slamming into a barrier you couldn't see but absolutely couldn't deny.
The moment his black particles touched Zerathrax's body, they were forcibly repelled. There wasn't even the smallest seam to slip through.
Ethan's breath hitched.
First time ever.
He couldn't get inside an enemy.
But he didn't stop.
He snapped those scattered particles back to himself, reformed his body, and started compressing power hard.
White lightning and Infernal Primordial Power pooled in his palm, shaping into a stable, heavy energy sphere.
This time, he wasn't chasing raw destructive output.
