Black river water exploded against Lu Chen’s chest.
Three water-ghouls broke the surface in a timed together strike, their webbed talons slicing through the dark foam toward his main neck blood vessels and windpipe.
Their claws whistled with rotting frost, leaving trails of pale green mist that froze the churning river spray mid-air.
He leaned straight forward into the surge.
In water that reached his collar bones, backward movement was dead weight.
Fluid pushback reduced standard linear footwork speed by forty-two percent.
He planted his left boot into the underwater granite stone floor. His bronze marrow locked his ankle into an unmoving pivot.
His right arm lashed out with the twelve-pound Calamity Cleaver.
