Vol.5, Ch.6, P.10
“Ooaa—aah!!”
“Haa—ahh!!”
Heeding neither haemorrhage nor raging pain, I bolted forth and brandished on the shineless sword. Cronheim matched it with temerity, wielding dightly his argent arm. Blades in contest clanged and thundercracked, echoing clear through this corner of the terrace-prospect. But fleetly, Cronheim bounded leftwards, as did I to the right. Parted for but a second, I expelled what little was left in my lungs, intook anew, and threw myself right back into the thick of it—meeting the mareschal as he assayed the very same.
“Buckmann!!”
“Cronheim!!”
Silver and steel locked, released, and lashed; and then locked, released, and lashed again. The end was nigh. With his next bladespell, or the next after that, should Cronheim run dry of all odyl. And come that moment, I would—
“Hgh…!”
I grimaced hard.
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Notes
Dēcollāns Ruptūra
(Language: Latin; original name: “Behead Rupture”) “Beheading Rupture”. Spatial ensorcellment and bladespell. Vastly extends the arc of a sword attack with a wash of odyl, which then, for an instant, nicks atwain the very space it occupies, sundering all matter caught within.
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