The dark king of the throne looked indifferently at the humans who had intruded into his realm, narrowing his eyes slightly, and looking at the intruder with the same grim gaze as the swarthy ship.

"Humans." Ronan the Accuser spoke slowly, "It's commendable that you've been able to get in here bypassing all my sentry posts and avoiding all the alarms. ”

This is already the highest rating from the accuser. With Ronan's conceit, he had no intention of communicating at all when facing such a low race as humans, and his willingness to let go of his little sense of superiority and speak to this intruding earthling was enough to prove that the other party had indeed impressed him.

"But you went to great lengths to get into my ship," Ronan continued, with a murderous outburst, "just to get the glory of being dealt with by my own hands." ”

Michael didn't reply, his right arm lifted, and the pulse beam of his palm was already roaring towards the throne. Ronan's head tilted, and the blue pulse exploded a small crater in the back of the chair behind his head, and sparks were bubbling in the hole.

Ronan frowned slightly.

He pressed his hands on the armrests of the seat, and his massive body suddenly rose to his feet, suddenly bullying himself with a quick form that did not match his burly size. He sprinted with his right hand and grabbed Michael's throat with lightning speed. He didn't take his hammer, but attacked it with his bare hands, perhaps because he didn't think that such an opponent was worth his full strength.

Michael dodged the grab and responded quickly with a springing leg. Ronan slapped his right palm down, slapping on his flying calf, and a terrifying force from his palm slapped him off the ground, leaving a square footprint on the ground with vibranium boots embedded in the ground.

Ronan defended with one hand and continued to attack with the other, and the rhythm was not chaotic. The accuser's interstellar prestige is not unfounded, and in addition to his strange strength and apparently the same level of physical fitness as the Hulk, his attainments in white-knuckle combat are also unfathomable.

Michael dodged his punch and slammed it into the crook of his arm. According to common sense, this hit can block the force on the opponent's arm, forcing him to retract his fist and change his move. But Ronan didn't, and he continued to blast his punch so recklessly, ignoring Michael's volley. Michael struck him in the crook of his arm with a slap of the arm, and the power system of the armor worked, and the force poured down the gauntlet, shaking Ronan's thick arm, which was only as immovable as iron.

And Ronan's punch also hit his chest without hindrance, and the strength was pressed to his chest through the vibranium armor shell, and although the kinetic energy was absorbed by the vibranium, it was still very amazing. Michael slammed into the inner wall of the cabin, which was sunken in.

Michael jumped off lightly.

A brief face-to-face trial had given him a rough idea of Ronan's level of power, helping him complete his assessment of the accuser's strength.

Ronan flickered, and stepped forward again like a ghost, his fist swirling with a strong wind.

Michael changed the number this time. His shoulders sank, and his left palm was still aimed at Ronan's punch, but this time it wasn't head-on. He saw through the momentum and power of Ronan's punch with a surprising eye, and swiped it somewhere on the opponent's arm, and the force subtly deflected the trajectory of his punch. Ronan threw a punch with all his might, but somehow it missed, and a rocket slammed into the wall behind Michael, blasting a huge crater.

Ronan let out an "um", as if he didn't quite understand what had just happened. But he didn't stop, followed by an incredibly heavy elbow hammer towards the opponent's helmet. Michael's palm was fluffed, and his palm spat out the circle, and he met it the moment Ronan's elbow hit him. He urged the magic power, and the golden magic circle flew in the palm of his hand, and when Ronan's powerful elbow hit the vortex of magic power, he turned inexplicably, and the huge force fell short again.

Ronan exerted too much force, and he almost couldn't stop it. Michael raised his left palm, and the pulse cannon took the opportunity to blast at Ronan's blue face. This suddenly, and it happened to catch the gap where Ronan's blow missed and couldn't stop, and it was almost impossible to dodge.

Michael's Pulse Cannon is powered by Terrigan Crystals and comes with a spell boost, making it a power that Ronan can't ignore.

But Ronan was the most powerful warrior in the Kree Empire, and he forced his body to flip in this moment of lightning, his head turned sideways, and the beam of impact flew almost against his cheek. Kerry's accuser felt nothing but a scorching gust of wind shooting into the air, burning his face as if it were on fire.

Being hurt by a human being is undoubtedly an intolerable shame for the accuser, but it provokes his anger and makes him let go of his contempt and raise his vigilance. Ronan clasped fists and palms, and the offensive unfolded like a storm, and the hurricane caused by his fists and feet filled the entire room like a tornado, and the air pressure in the space changed suddenly.

Michael faced this strange storm head-on, and coped calmly and calmly. His palms conjured up golden and red rings of spells, striking at the huge black fist shadow with a heavy lift. His magic worked, the endoskeletal power system maintained the maximum output, and all the accuser's dense punches and kicks were unloaded by him one by one. Ronan attacked for twenty or thirty rounds in a row with his proud strange power, but he didn't get a chance to use his strength once. It feels as if every punch is taken off the rails, and a strange force always disappears without a trace as if it has exploded into the boundless ocean, and even a point of focus cannot be found.

This is also a practical skill that Michael learned from the Supreme Master during his time at Kama Taj. The mages of Kama Taj mostly prefer melee combat, and their tactics are certainly not the same as those of traditional ordinary combat. The Supreme Mage had taught him many techniques for incorporating spells into white-knuckle combat, and Michael's personal preference was the one he was applying right now.

Most mages are ordinary people, and even if they can obtain a certain amount of reinforcement by infusing their bodies with magical power, they are often physically weak when dealing with enemies from various alien dimensions. That's where skill comes in.

Mages are not wrestlers, and should focus on skill when engaging in hand-to-hand combat, and should avoid power collisions as much as possible. A simple spell can reverse the direction of an enemy's attack, change the trajectory of its attack, and even absorb and cancel out the energy carried by the opponent's attack. If they are familiar enough with spells and can use them skillfully and flexibly, they can defuse most of the opponent's attacks by unleashing magical powers.

In fact, there are many similar spell combat techniques, and although Michael has a high level of understanding and learns quickly, he is still too far behind the Supreme Mage. If the Ancient One Mage himself was here, even if it was close hand-to-hand combat, he should be able to send Ronan away with three moves and two styles.

Michael's right hand pulled, leading Ronan's menacing grasp to another place, followed by a bombardment with his left palm, and the pulse cannon hit the chest, splashing a trace of sparks on Ronan's black armor. Ronan took a step back, stood on his heels, and threw a punch straight at him. Michael's left shoulder sank and dodged, and the missile popped out of his shoulder, and three miniature missiles ignited at zero distance and exploded in Ronan's chest. The firelight bloomed like a hideous lotus flower, and Ronan was blown back from the flames, but he still stood tenaciously. Michael raised his palms and made up the pulse cannon in front of him, and Ronan finally got off the plate and staggered back into his seat.

It's a shame.

"Enough!"

Ronan let out a low snort. With a wave of his hand, he grabbed the war hammer that had been stuck upside down on the ground, and skillfully swung it in a half-circle in his hand, pointing towards the black gold armor in front of him.

"You've got my attention, human." "And that's the last thing you'll ever have to regret in the world," he said. ”