The Void construct didn't fight like a warrior.
It fought like a sickness.
Lin Tian's sword passed through its torso without resistance, the blade carving a rift through nothing but shadow. The thing reformed a heartbeat later, its hand closing around his wrist with a grip that felt like frost and rot all at once.
He twisted free.
Brought his knee up into its chest.
The impact sent it staggering back, but it didn't make a sound. Didn't bleed. Didn't even seem to feel the blow.
It's not alive.
That was the problem.
You couldn't wound something that had never lived. Couldn't intimidate something that had never known fear.
The construct lunged again, and this time Lin Tian didn't try to cut it.
He met it with his shoulder, drove through its center of mass, and let the momentum carry them both toward the Fragment.
