The blow was faster than before, accelerated by more energy as it was, and the Collector took it in its chest, but it had figured out the timing. The blows became faster by a factor of magnitude set by adding the force generated by both the Collector and the draconid's strengths.

Thus, it was possible to calculate and predict how fast it would be by simply adding the power generated by both of them, though the faster and faster these exchanges became and the magnitudes of energy transferred between them grown to higher and higher lengths, the margins of error would increase.

But because the Collector could still predict it, it could be ready to counter even if it could not physically react to it.

The Collector used [Dispersal], taking the massively amplified blow aimed at its head. The initial strike was so powerful that it shattered two more skulls and much of hooded carapace surrounding them, but the draconid did not know where the Collector's main skull was.

And unless the main skull was heavily compromised, the Collector would not falter.

The Collector spun around again with the force, unleashing a backhand once more.

This time, the blow was so quick that it easily far surpassed the speed of sound, a sonic boom echoing and merging with the impact.

But the draconid only smiled and took the hit to the side of its head, using [Dispersal] to spin around sideways just as the Collector did, swaying and rolling with the blow, before transferring the force into a tail strike of its own aimed at the Collector's side.

The Collector calculated and predicted again.

The tail strike hit the side of its torso, and at the very moment of impact, the very infinitesimal smidgeon of time required for the Collector to take the blow before it could disperse it, the strike was powerful enough to completely obliterate one of its arms, wreaking deep cracks into the hyperalloy carapace on its torso.

The Collector weathered the initial impact and dispersed the rest of the force, channeling it through its body again.

The Collector redirected the blow, letting it guide it, spinning in the air and unleashing a straight punch with its now one remaining arm.

Again, the draconid caught this blow, this time with the top of its broad, plated head.

Imperfectly, though. The strikes were becoming too fast even for it to properly obtain the right timing for.

Deep cracks lined the top of its head with pale blue blood welling up from them before it spun forwards, riding the flow of energy and unleashing a falling axe kick mid-air.

This time, after so many cycles of building up energy, this blow was beyond the Collector's capacity even to redirect. The speed of the strike was such that the margin of error was simply too high for the Collector to obtain the proper timing to, and unless it had the perfect timing that would allow it to experience only the smallest of moments taking the initial blow, the strike would be lethal.

[Dispersal] could only block so much damage.

Even ten percent of this blow would obliterate the Collector's entire body.

Yet –

The Collector activated Chronostasis, massively accelerating its mental processing temporarily.

It perceived the world with such heightened reaction that all movements seemed to slow down to a crawl, tinted with a faint blue hue. This ability could not be utilized consecutively, and the toll on its mental processing afterwards ensured that it was not one to be used lightly.

But the Collector used it now, for if it could perfectly counter this strike and impart the blow back to a vital area, it could triumph over the draconid with its very own overwhelming might.

Even with slowed time perception, the strike was too quick for the Collector to completely perceive, but at the very least, it could calculate the timing better, and if it knew the timing of the strike to within one percent margin of error, then it estimated it could reduce the damage of the blow by up to 95%.

There was absolutely no room for error here. Beyond a one percent margin of error would dramatically reduce [Dispersal's] efficacy down to 85% damage reduction, and that was guaranteed to be lethal.

But the Collector was a warrior of the Collective, bred and born to be the zenith of natural might, adapted to any and all situations.

When hardship arose, it met it, adapted to it, and evolved past it.

The Collector engaged the perfect timing. The kick struck its upper chest chest, and even with perfect [Dispersal], the initial shock was enough to completely blow apart the Collector's chest carapace, splitting apart the hyper alloy carapace and tearing apart the longchain chitinous sublayer underneath.

The Firefly Shinchu orb shattered, and the force continued to travel internally to rupture one of its hearts.

Though, thankfully, it was the heart holding the female daemon specimen's power.

Thus, not necessary for immediate survival.

The Collector managed to force the rest of the powerful blow flowing harmlessly through its body, and as Chronostasis began to end, it diverted the rapidly accelerated power to fuel a back flip.

With the back flip, it coursed the power into the edge of its tail like a whip, striking it out at the specimen's chin.

The permeating force would be enough to destroy a significant portion of its brain, at the least.

Chronostasis ended, and as the Collector's perception of time rapidly accelerated to normal, it felt itself sailing backwards, skidding into the rocky ground of the cliff, gouging out a deep crater with its back. Its tail had ruptured at the end from transferring such a vast quantity of energy.

The Collector used its remaining arm to push itself up, focusing its ocular systems on the draconid. Its sensory perception was hazy, with some sounds, sights, scents, and tactile inputs being numbed or registering late – a side effect of Chronostasis.

The simple shockwave generated from unleashing the blow directly had shattered the edge of the cliff face entirely, as if a high-ordinance demolitions charge had been set off. In the middle of this carved out carnage, the form of the draconid floated in the air.

Half of the draconid's head was blown off. A lethal wound. Yet, the unmistakeable glint of life in the draconid's one remaining blue eye showed that the Collector had not grasped victory.

Where the draconid's shattered skull should have exposed thoroughly pulped brain mass, there was instead just gleaming blue energy covering any viscera or bone matter. This was not the mana boosted high speed regeneration that the other draconid had, this was of an energy signature entirely different.

Regardless, the effect of it was apparent: it kept the draconid alive.

The Collector unfurled its Shinchu wings and hovered on them, half of its tail having blown off and in need of thorough regeneration.

The draconid floated towards the Collector, putting a hand over its shattered head.

"You…you strike me with strong hit. Hit enough maybe to kill. But curse does not break," said the draconid. A rattle escaped from his throat. A quiet, muted rattle. One of melancholy. "Maybe…you are not the one."

The draconid stared at the Collector, its one eye's slit pupil narrowing to a point as it thoroughly took in the Collector.

"No, you are the one. You must be the one. You have to be the one," said the draconid, almost pleading, more to itself than to the Collector or anyone else. "The White Voice does not lie. You have potential.

Grow stronger and stronger."

The draconid touched the cavity in its head covered by blue energy. "And when you are strong enough, you break my curse. Not now, though. Now, you are too weak."

The draconid floated higher in the air, its head instantly regenerating with an explosive burst of white flesh and bone matter. "When you are strong, come north. To the Rift. You find your destiny there."

With that, the draconid flew away with enough speed that it parted the fall of Grain all around it, becoming nothing more than a blurred dot in less than a second.