Pebbles rushed past Akaza's face.
They broke apart as they approached the Vardran's fist. Larger fragments followed, and they were crushed into dust that vanished beneath the gathering force.
His body was being dragged toward the same place.
He knew that all the Vardran needed was just one punch.
If that fist reached his chest, there wouldn't be another exchange.
He would most likely die.
Akaza forced more power downward. His legs dipped, but the rest of him continued hurtling forward.
Changing direction wasn't enough. Trying to overpower the pull would exhaust him before he escaped.
Then something stirred within his newly awakened bloodline.
The reinforced bones of a Kharad could absorb part of an impact and release it through a strike. The understanding came with a sharp response from the ridges over his knuckles.
But his body could only hold so much.
Akaza looked at the approaching fist.
'Then I'll hold what I can.'
