Leonel's thoughts wanted him to grab a hold of the magma glaive. He was practically immune to fire and heat, while also incredibly resistant to Earth Force as well. This person would usually be someone that he could perfectly counter without even the slightest hint of unease.
But the moment he thought to do so, his instincts screamed at him to not be stupid an instant later.
Dream Step.
He took a single step back as the glaive swung, barely missing the tip of his nose. The searing hint threatened to burn a layer of his skin off and the sharpness caught some of his hair, slicing them off and then, as though a will of fire itself continued to burn within them, began to quickly burn them as well.
'What the hell?'
Leonel was speechless.
His hair was truly indestructible. He had tried everything, but outside of the compulsion of his King's Might itself, nothing could cut his hair, let alone singe and burn it.