A blizzard carrying bitter cold and lightning roared from her palm like a white whip spanning the sky. It struck the scales on the Black Dragon's flank with pinpoint accuracy.
Ice crystals burst at the point of impact, and the tremendous force hurled the Black Dragon's massive body dozens of meters sideways.
Ice-blue cracks flashed across its scales, only to be swiftly covered and sealed by surging black fluid, as though a living bandage had closed the wound.
The Black Dragon made no sound of pain. Beneath those scales, the God of Symbiotes was almost immune to physical injury.
The impact of the exploding ice crystals had barely brushed the surface of his awareness. It had not struck anything vital.
He had learned his lesson. He was no longer the Knull who had just possessed the Black Dragon and been easily beaten by someone with a hammer.
Knull steadied himself in midair, his dark-red eyes narrowing slightly.
He remembered the last time this body had been destroyed. The feeling of lightning piercing its spine remained etched deep in his consciousness.
With his true body still sealed away, he would not take an attack the same way again. The Black Dragon's shell was huge and tough, but it still had physical weaknesses against high-frequency energy strikes.
So he stopped meeting attacks head-on with the Black Dragon's body.
Immense psychic power surged around the Black Dragon like an invisible ocean seeping out of the void, directly wrenching at the rules of the material world.
Air currents rearranged themselves at his will. Lightning changed course under his control. Before him, a storm barrier formed from alternating extremes of cold and heat, churning like a living wall.
The Weather Witch's second strike hit the barrier. Its entire path veered thirty degrees, grazing the Black