Miska had no idea how any of this had happened. His memory had gone completely blank the moment silver light shone from Solam's eyes. By the time he regained consciousness, everything had already happened.
"Ahhh!!!" Miska screamed as he immediately pulled away from Solam. Though he had no idea what had happened, one thing was certain—he had to run.
"Run? Let's see where you think you can run to!"
With that, Solam gave chase.
All the demons present stared dumbfounded at what happened next. The once-arrogant Miska was being chased down and beaten by Solam. What was strange, however, was that Miska seemed possessed. Whenever Solam attacked, he would freeze up as though he had jammed, remaining completely motionless until Solam's attack landed on him. Only then would he snap out of it and flee again.
Because of that, the battle did not look intense at all. On the contrary, it looked almost childish, like two children playing Red Light, Green Light.
Yet that was precisely why the others found it so hard to accept. Just think about how formidable Miska had been before. He had single-handedly beaten ten Sons of Solam into a miserable state. For three whole days, Miska and a band of rabble had overwhelmed Solam's elite army and pummeled them without mercy.
And now, look at him—the contrast was simply too great!
After being struck by Solam several times in a row, Miska finally came to his senses.
"Mind Blast!!!"
Miska was an old hand, after all. During the ancient War of Chaos, he had fought against practically every race in the multiverse. His experience was incomparably rich, and he quickly figured out how Solam had reduced him to such a wretched state.
The reason he had not immediately realized what method Solam had used to