Trash

"Trash."

Ryu's voice echoed with cold indifference.

With a squeeze of his palms, his great swordstaffs vanished.

As though to prove a point, he reached out with nothing more than his empty palm, echoing booms already coming from his bones as his Nine Revolution Skybreaker Bone Structure came to life.

The air around his arm shattered, his robe sleeves billowing in the wind with a shuddering momentum.

Before the spear had even reached him, it had slowed down considerably. And by the time it was about to rest in his palms, it was practically a crawl compared to what it had been before.

Chi.

Ryu grabbed it out of the air, pivoted a foot, and slammed a palm forward.

BANG!

His hand landed perfectly on Primus' chest, his cold, indifferent, mercury-like eyes dripping with callousness.