Michael Isaac's eyes narrowed as he saw Edward's lightning-coated fist enlarge in his vision.
Quickly weaving hand seals, he brought his hands together, resounding in a booming clap. The ground beneath him trembled, then surged upward, wrapping around him, encasing his body in an armor of solid rock.
Then, Michael crossed his arms and blocked the incoming attack.
Despite all his preparations, the magical armor shattered in an instant. Michael felt the bones in his arms creak, and suddenly he felt a coppery taste flooding his mouth.
Gritting his teeth, he endured. He endured, endured, and endured.
And in the end… rather than being flung like a ragdoll, he merely skidded back a few meters, feet scrapping against the ground.
Michael's vision was hazy. His breathing was ragged, and his muscles ached all over. Blood trickled down his mouth, falling to the ground.
