Johnn didn't just rush in blindly. Despite his panic, his training kicked in. He knew that hacking Jdirectly at the center might slice Maddy instead of the monster. He widened his stance, his tonfas spinning with a rhythmic, metallic whistle until they were nothing but a blur of wood.
"Whistile Strike!"
He threw a powerful, concentrated punch into the empty air. The sheer force of the blow compressed the atmosphere, sending a high velocity shockwave of slicing air toward the vine-ball.
Inside her mossy "prison," Maddy felt the pressure wave approaching.
"If this idiot clips me with his clumsy air pressure, I'm going to make this 'monster' slap him into the next nation," she thought, her fingers twitching with the latent command to retaliate.
But Johnn's control was surprisingly precise. The air blade danced around her silhouette, surgically shredding the vines that bound her wrists, mouth, and ankles without so much as grazing her skin.
