Colt Knightwood didn't waste a second. He launched himself at me with terrifying speed, his fist radiating golden energy as it cut through the air toward my face.
I barely managed to dodge, feeling the rush of wind against my cheek as his punch missed by millimeters. The wall behind me cracked from the pressure alone.
"You're fast," Colt remarked, his eyes narrowing. "But speed won't save you today."
I summoned my energy, golden light flickering around my body as I activated my Saintly Body Skill. "I'm not dying here. Not when Michael Ashworth's life depends on me."
Colt smirked. "You've been set up, Knight. There's no escape."
He struck again, this time with both hands forming a complicated pattern. The air itself seemed to compress around me, making it hard to breathe. I recognized this technique—Spatial Confinement, a high-level skill that few Grandmasters could execute with such precision.
