Chapter 663: Lightning God’s Descent
As the towering lightning giant behind Rey completed its formation, each of its ten arms crackled violently with overwhelming power. In each hand, bolts of lightning began to materialize—thick, seething with energy, and thrice the size of Max himself.
The very air trembled under their weight, humming with a destructive rhythm. If even one of those bolts struck him, it would mean instant defeat—if not death, then certainly heavy injuries. But Max didn’t step back. He didn’t tremble. His eyes gleamed with sharp clarity.
"Go!" Rey shouted, his voice thunderous. And in the next instant, like a cascade of fury, the giant unleashed its arsenal. Tens upon tens of lightning bolts shot forward in unison, creating a wall of death that surged across the arena toward Max.
Yet Max stood tall.
"Good," he muttered under his breath, his lips curling into a grin of anticipation.
In his vision, the world slowed down. The chaos of the incoming storm was peeled back, frame by frame. Dozens—hundreds—of purple lightning bolts surged toward him like vengeful spears, but to him, they were frozen in motion.
His Three Dimensional Body had activated to its peak. The bolts’ trajectories shimmered like glowing lines in his sight, their paths etched across space, giving him just enough of an opening, just enough time.
And he moved.
Max dashed forward with fluid, impossibly precise movements, slipping between deadly gaps in the storm. A bolt sliced past his left shoulder, sizzling the air just inches away. Another scraped past his thigh, but never touched him.