Under the influence of erosion, humanity's most primal impulses are magnified infinitely. From the increasingly frenzied assault of the Black Angel, it's clear that the urge to attack has been unleashed to its fullest, and it's at this mont that it chooses to strike.
The Sword Dancer deliberately reveals a flaw to lure the Black Angel into attacking, and the Black Angel seizes the opportunity to approach. Just then, the Sword Dancer suddenly releases his tight grip on the sword blade and grabs the Black Angel. Although those Iron Feathers are sharp, they only add a few scratches when rubbing against the sturdy armor.
Clutching the Black Angel tightly, he then lands a heavy punch on its chest. In truth, the Black Angel is sowhat unclear about why the Sword Dancer would do this. Although the output of the Third Generation Armor is impressive, thinking of defeating the Black Angel solely with punches is rather naive.
But at this mont, a fiery explosion erupts, like a blazing sun rising on the Black Angel's chest.
The Sword Dancer isn't throwing a punch; rather, he unleashes a near point-blank shot from the armor cannon.
The force of the shot pushes the Black Angel back, with scorching flas burning its body, while the tal fragnts not yet entirely lted stab fiercely into the armor, red-hot molten iron flowing across it, amidst the sprawling sparks.
This is a long-planned strike by the Night Owl; it deals a heavy blow to the Black Angel, causing it to stagger backward painfully, forcibly shaking off the burning iron, red steam furiously spewing, the sharp hissing sounding like its wail, echoing through the Workshop.
The Sword Dancer clumsily picks up the fallen Great Sword; he doesn't continue chasing, but chooses to stabilize his footing.
The Black Angel's body begins to twitch painfully, for the burning temperature is destroying its muscles as it relentlessly transmits this pain to the flesh-wrapped Lorenzo.
Blood spills over the ground, yet after brief agony, the charred flesh is replaced. Although the injuries persist, with the Demon's regenerative power, they are not sufficient to incapacitate it, but the plate armor on its chest is red-hot and shattered, revealing a large area of exposed flesh beneath. If the Sword Dancer is fast enough, a hit here could even pierce through Lorenzo within.
"Want to continue?" Night Owl asked.
Although the full activation of the Black Angel had previously brought him considerable trouble, as ti passed, erosion started affecting the pilot. He felt he had already won.
"Continue!"
That was another voice filled with rage.
The sudden wailing also started at this mont. Looking around, thick fog is released, and the Black Angel slowly stands up, its terrifying injuries still bleeding, grotesque to behold.
"Lorenzo..."
rlin wanted to say sothing but was interrupted.
"I felt sothing was off from the start, rlin, this feeling isn't right, like my entire being is restrained, unable to exert strength."
With bizarre red eyes peering into this world, the crimson Restraint Device on its body starts to hum and tremble, tightly embedded rivets begin to rebound, becoming protrusions one by one, and it's at this mont that the glowing green lights all turn red, the Geiger readings skyrocketing.
"Stop it quickly!"
rlin shouted anxiously, but the communicator was filled with a chaotic static noise, the rising erosion interfering with all connections.
"This is how you should be."
The face wrapped in flesh revealed a maniacal smile as the Restraint Device finally gave way, with silver-white cylindrical rivets popping one by one, shining brightly.
User Comments
0 comments from readers