The impact was instantaneous and violent.
Albert's fist, encased in a roiling vortex of compressed energy, collided with the obsidian wooden blade.
The resulting shockwave was a thunderclap that echoed through the ancient grove, sending a ripple of displaced air through the hanging vines.
The force of the detonation blasted both Albert and the Grove Sentinel backward in opposite directions.
Albert skidded across the mossy earth, his boots digging deep furrows into the loam as he fought to stabilize his center.
He barely managed to stay upright, his arm tingling from the sheer kinetic feedback of the blow.
The sudden explosion startled the surrounding incarnations, who instinctively recoiled, widening the circle and giving the combatants distance.
"Sir!" one of his men called out, stepping forward with a weapon raised in a panic.
Albert raised a sharp hand, signaling him to halt.
"Remain calm," he said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through his veins.
