"Only you're left."
In the sky, Strangle wriggled as it repaired its host's body. The huge missing chunk of Su Ming's abdomen seemed to come alive, slowly twisting and squirming.
Nabu had indeed held something back. After their mutual probing ended, he had actually chosen to engage Deathstroke in close combat.
As an ancient Mage, his close-combat skills were utterly unremarkable, no better than Gotham's Bikers wielding steel pipes and spiked clubs. His strength, however, was astonishing.
But there was one problem: attacks that were absurdly slow and clumsy could not be dodged.
Or rather, he could clearly see himself dodging them, only to be inexplicably struck the very next instant.
After taking several of Nabu's punches, Su Ming gradually confirmed that this was the power of the rules of order. Nabu had breached Maya's space and channeled the power of Order Space here, thereby gaining partial authority within it.
Although his authority was certainly not as high as that book in Monark's hands, it already involved rules. The problem now was that brute force alone could not solve this.
Nabu merely needed to throw a punch, then instantly teleport Deathstroke into its path. It was practically like causality itself.
If Su Ming's dynamic vision had not been strong enough, he might have been misled by this supposedly unavoidable method of attack.
The moment he identified the problem, he had Diana fall back to assist Mazikeen while he alone stubbornly pinned Nabu down.
When his body was shattered, he let Strangle repair it. When he was teleported away, he let the Cloak bring him back. In the mere minutes since the battle began, he estimated that he had lost dozens of kilograms of blood. If not for Strangle, any other Deathstroke would probably have gone mad by now.
At last,