Palm Force Presses In

The night sky was torn completely open. Thick clouds rolled into two arcs, revealing a massive void. A river of stars poured down from the breach, its cold light falling directly over the royal palace and illuminating the entire battlefield as brightly as day. High above, Netero and Meruem faced each other, and with every rise and fall of their auras, even the air seemed to tighten.

Netero pressed his palms together, his toes tapping repeatedly against empty space as though he were climbing an invisible staircase. Every step came with a deep, muffled boom, like drumbeats striking through the night. His body abruptly rose dozens of meters, then plunged down sharply, both palms slashing diagonally with the force of thunder. The air split apart, forming a long, narrow white line that drove straight for the King's shoulder and neck.

Meruem did not evade. He spread his arms, his shoulders and back swelling as his entire body forced itself upward. His arm guards collided with the edges of Netero's palms in an earthshaking crash. The impact point stalled in midair for half a breath before expanding into a ring of white light. The palace rooftops below instantly cracked apart, rows of tiles collapsing in showers of sparks. Dust waves surged dozens of meters high, the walls trembled and split, and the distant forest was flattened by the pressure of the wind, the entire sea of trees bowing at once.

Netero did not stop. Borrowing the force, he drew back his palms and spun through the air, the edge of his other hand slicing diagonally down toward the King's collarbone. Meruem swiftly raised an arm and blocked with his elbow, and another shockwave rang out. He twisted his shoulders, driving his entire body through his hips to force the palm edge