CHAPTER 983
"That's all?"
Thalos spoke callously, turning his head to stare at Pluck, who stood trembling before him.
The vice leader had just delivered his most powerful punch, yet all it had accomplished was moving the gargoyle's head a few inches to the side.
Now, his ultimate attack was being shrugged off with a chilling, cold question.
… That's all?
'What does he mean? My strike barely fazed him?'
"... You couldn't even draw blood. What a pity."
Before Pluck could even blink, his neck was seized by the gargoyle's heavy, stone hands.
In the very next heartbeat, he kissed the ground as debris and dust flooded into his mouth and nose.
His eyes widened in an inexplicable agony.
He almost coughed up blood when he was roughly yanked back up and then cast aside like a mere piece of old, unused attire.
The wind bit against the man's face and body like a vengeful wrath.
That was the sheer magnitude of Thalos' throw.
