Byung looked at the thing wearing Kragg's face and ran the numbers honestly.
He was faster than most things he'd met in this world. Stronger than he had any right to be given what he'd started as. He had magic now, dark and volatile, and a system that had dragged him back from death more than once. None of that changed what was standing in front of him. The arm on the ground said everything — Mazga had hit it with everything she had and it had responded the way a mountain responds to weather. Whatever was inside Kragg wasn't just stronger than him. It was operating somewhere above the ceiling of what he'd encountered in this world entirely.
He couldn't win. Not today. Probably not ever, at his current state.
That wasn't fear. It was just arithmetic.
