Blade intent and lightning crashed through the temple chamber.
Victor moved like water flowing downhill—no resistance, no hesitation, every step carrying him exactly where he needed to be. His blade sang through the air, trailing arcs of condensed killing intent that made the pipes shudder and the cocoon pulse faster.
Josh met him blow for blow.
Lightning wreathed the silver-haired man's fists, crackling along his arms, dancing across his shoulders. Every punch carried enough voltage to kill a Mana Heart cultivator outright. Every block sent sparks showering across the chamber floor.
But Josh wasn't trying to win.
He was trying to protect.
Every time Victor's blade swung toward the cocoon, Josh intercepted. Every time an errant slash sent energy rippling toward the pulsing membrane, Josh absorbed the impact with his own body. He was a wall—mobile, adaptive, utterly committed to keeping anything from touching the thing growing inside that shell.
