Aether pooled toward Sylas in a torrent. His vision seed to explode forth with colors, and suddenly, the night of darkness was practically as clear as day.
The pain was thrown to the back of his mind, and he rolled to the side, his focus unprecedented as he weaved his way out of the path of another sword strike.
He could feel every fiber of his body being flexed to an extre.
In that mont, he entered an unprecedented state of focus where his mind and his body truly seed to be one. It wasn't that his mind was controlling himself so perfectly any longer, but rather that every command was executed with the most perfect of precision, making it feel as though his limbs were being controlled by separate minds.
And right then, they were.
He abandoned his kunai and split his attention. Every movent he made, he focused on bringing it to the pinnacle of what perfection ant to him in his thoughts and his aspirations. Every angle, every slight twitch was expanded until it was at the forefront of his mind, and right then, it looked as though his body was being puppeted by six different streams of thought that all shared just a single mind in the end.
His arms twisted and contorted, his hips spinning, and his legs sliding out of the way of attacks. Slices through the air that had ended up nicking him just minutes ago were just barely evaded by him, and the storm of blades landed on nothing more than empty air.
Streaks of green were left in the night as his gaze shifted and his body moved. He focused entirely on dodging, forgetting about everything else but the environnt that surrounded them.
Because Azrael had cut off his path of retreat before, Sylas could tell that with every effort he made, he was being pushed back toward the village he had just escaped. If things continued like this, it was likely that even the pig demons would soon co to intercept his path.
The pressure of death had never been so great, but he didn't waver, focusing everything he had on the mont at hand.
What ca would co no matter what. If he didn't deal with this man first, there would be no coming back from this.
So he pushed, and when he thought he wouldn't have anything more to give, he pushed even harder.
His focus was draining faster than could keep up with, but even this thought was tossed away as fast as it ca.
More. Faster. Sharper.
The swift blades surrounded him in a cyclone, and soon the wind pressure alone was cutting into his track suit, ripping him up from head to toe, and yet still unable to penetrate his skin again.
By this point, Azrael couldn't help but frown, the first hint of true emotion that the man had shown. He found it hard to believe that this was happening. He had already taken out his blade, and yet a weak Level 0 like Sylas was still able to keep his life?
Honestly, he had wanted to capture Sylas alive, but he was starting to get irritated.
Where had this person co from?
"Fine."
Azrael's voice was shockingly charming. It had a deep cadence that could lull a baby to sleep and make won swoon. It was just a single word, but Sylas felt a flash of danger alert him in the back of his mind.
This man's Charisma was off the charts and felt comparable to Sylas' own even while he had Madness activated.
His current Charisma was 680! With the 10% boost from his title, it was well over 700!
However, it was precisely because of this feeling that Sylas saw it coming before it ca. He activated Enchanted Scholar, and the world was painted in runes, especially around Azrael, who looked as though he was being surrounded by fluttering silver-blue butterflies in the shape of ancient characters.
The lingering word he had spoken took shape in the air almost like the focus words of a mage, and when he slashed out, his blade ran right through it.
And yet, instead of cleaving the rune in two, the blackened sword was coated by it and a vicious scythe ford in the air, rushing toward Sylas at a speed that was almost impossible to track with the naked eye.
Sylas had been in this world for long enough… he knew the kind of shocking feats those that called this world their own could accomplish.
However, he had still always felt that modern technology was still superior, at least for now. At the very least, he would very much rather battle against the mammoths than a pistol, even if the forr could cause tsunami waves of earth to assault him.
For the first ti, he changed his mind.
This blade was no less lethal, no less quick and sharp, no less hair-raising than a speeding bullet.
His focus almost wavered, and his mind shook, but his Will clamped down and his gaze flashed with a fierce light.
At that mont, the Stabilizing Bracelet glowed and a shield of black and dark gold appeared.
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