"How is that possible?!" Elder Bras's voice trembled with disbelief, his eyes wide as saucers. Beside him, Travis stood frozen, mouth agape, unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed.
A second ago, it looked like Max was on the brink of defeat—barely holding on, seconds away from being flattened into dust by that overwhelming golden palm and the six colossal hands summoned by the Buddha's shadow.
Everything had pointed to a crushing loss. The ground beneath Max had already cracked, his arms had been trembling violently, and his sword had been slowly inching backward under the weight of the attack.
Everyone watching had already assumed the outcome. And then, in a heartbeat, it all changed. That sudden, inexplicable burst of terrifying red energy, the demonic brilliance in Max's eyes, and the way his sword—so resolute, so final—tore through the golden palms like they were made of paper… it completely flipped the battlefield upside down.
