Suddenly, Zephyrion's golden eyes narrowed.
The chaotic elemental storm around the vessel suddenly collapsed inward, compressing into a single point of terrifying density at the tip of Adrian's finger.
SWOOOSSSSSSSSHHH!
The air itself seemed to fold.
Gray's bored expression finally faded.
For the first time since the match began, his face turned serious.
Whatever technique Zephyrion was using erupted.
Fwoopp!
The space actually twisted.
A lattice of razor-thin spatial cuts, each one laced with the conceptual authority of shifting winds, bloomed outward in every direction at once.
It was not a simple area attack, but more like a domain-level locking art that attempted to freeze every possible escape vector within a thirty-meter radius and then collapse them simultaneously.
Even with his [Swap] unique skill, Gray realized the problem instantly.
Tracking Zephyrion's true movement under this kind of conceptual interference would not be simple.
