Continuous crashes echoed in the space, distorting and morphing the surroundings as if engulfed by boundless chaos. White Mitchell struck his sword toward Moore with abandon, causing ripples in the space.
Moore opened his eyes wide, unable to believe what was happening before him. He had thought that his Law of Wind would be enough to meet any opponent's challenge, yet he did not expect White Mitchell's Space Law to be so powerful.
He felt spatial changes, his body no longer agile, no longer as free as the wind. Each dodge was fraught with difficulty, and the spatial blade light had him struggling to move.
Moore gritted his teeth, gathering the Power of Wind in his body, using the Law of Wind to shield himself. His fist was enveloped in a layer of wind, as he swung it toward the spatial blade light.