Chapter 3 Now I'm the Head of a Solo Regiment (5600)_2

Just like now.

The ice-blue spike should have penetrated the skull of this elderly Iron Folk, whose heads could block bullets but could never withstand a casual touch from a Second Level Sublimator.

But it was blocked—accompanied by a mournful roar, the elderly Iron Folk suddenly burst out with a burst of speed. With a swing of his palm, his slightly deformed hand struck the ice spike and shattered it, then he flipped over, planning to escape from the Governor's Office through the window.

As the ice spike exploded in mid-air, pieces scattered and turned into a mist of murky water and shards, reflecting Ian's expressionless face and Colonel Majorva's furrowed brow.