With a sharp twist of his wrist, Nox whipped his sword behind him, aiming for Lyrium's blind spot.
The blade cut through the air like a streak of silver, swift and deadly.
But—
Clank!
A sharp, metallic sound rang out as Lyrium caught the blade with his bare hand.
Nox's eyes widened in disbelief.
'What…?!'
His sword had been moving at full speed, yet Lyrium had caught it so effortlessly—as if he had predicted it.
The pressure from Lyrium's grip sent vibrations down the length of the blade.
Nox gritted his teeth, trying to pull it free, but Lyrium's fingers tightened around the steel, refusing to budge.
Then—
Crack!
A faint sound echoed as the metal beneath Lyrium's palm began to fracture.
'He's crushing it with just his grip?!'
Panic surged through Nox, but he had no time to process it.
Because in the next second—
Lyrium pulled.
Hard.