Shocked. Stunned.
The two elders of the Tengu Clan froze in place.
For a moment, they even suspected that their eyes were playing tricks on them.
Ethan calmly felt the power transmitted from Zeph's fist. The violent force surged like a raging torrent, yet it was dispersed the instant it entered his arm—smoothly, cleanly, without resistance.
Not only that.
He still had energy to spare.
"The Tengu Clan…" Ethan spoke lightly, his voice flat and indifferent.
"…is nothing more than that."
The irony in those words was sharp enough to cut flesh.
Zeph's pupils shrank violently.
"How—how is that possible?!"
"How can you, a mere human, block my punch head-on?!"
Disbelief filled his face. His voice cracked, no longer as composed as before.
This was not blocking through techniques.
Not deflecting with skill.
It was pure, brutal resistance.
Even worse—
Ethan's fist felt like forged divine iron.
