His blood ran cold. The white lines—he hadn't seen them since the Harbinger fight. They only appeared when someone or something was trying to kill him, he theorized.
Time seemed to slow as Noah processed this realization. This wasn't just a tournament fight anymore. The thin, glowing white trajectory line cut through the air, marking the path of Elias's incoming strike directly toward his heart.
Noah pivoted on his left foot, twisting his torso ninety degrees. Elias's knuckles whistled past his chest, missing by millimeters. The crowd roared at what looked like a routine dodge, unaware of what Noah had just seen.
"What's wrong, Eclipse?" Elias taunted, his lips curled into a snarl. "Looking a little pale."
