The two — the Empress and the king — attacked. Simultaneously. Both fists — the scaled fist and the horned fist — came forward. Aimed at each other. The faces. The impact — the double punch, the head-on collision — would have been devastating. To both. To the hall. To the city.
Raven moved.
Between them. Instantly. The speed — the speed that exceeded level 150, the speed that exceeded — everything — was there. One moment he was on the head seat. The next he was between them. In the air. Between the two fists.
His hands went out.
Both hands. One to each fist. His left hand — the human hand, the normal-sized hand — caught the Empress's scaled fist. His right hand caught the king's horned fist. The impact — the force of two beings above level 140, the force that could level buildings — was caught. In his palms. The shockwave — the force that should have shattered the hall — was absorbed. By his body. By his mana.
He swung.
