Kyrian knew the instant Yun Hao's strike came.
If he tried to face it head-on using his spear and his own body, he would certainly lose. There would be no margin. There would be no time for correction.
Yun Hao's sword descended, carrying too much power, too condensed, further reinforced by his physique that surpassed the ordinary.
Kyrian would suffer severe injuries upon that contact. That certainty was clear.
And, at the very instant that certainty arose, something changed.
It was a rational decision. The best way to defend took over Kyrian's mind.
The cold was born within Kyrian.
It was not a common cold. It did not come from the air. It did not come from the environment. It was a cold that emerged from the inside out, spreading outward.
The air around the arena trembled.
Kyrian's crimson eyes changed.
