One drop after another continued to trickle down his nose, dyeing his gray beard a dark crimson. Blackwood raised his hand and wiped the blood off his nose, his eyes flickering with slight alarm.
…How?
He wondered to himself, replaying his entire battle with Marden inside his mind. Then, he glanced at the traitor, watching the victorious smile on his face. The Headmaster ignored it, instead looking for any discrepancies.
Finally, he was able to notice it. His eyes narrowed even further as he muttered in a hoarse voice:
"Your blade…"
Marden's grin turned even more sinister. His hands blurred as he weaved the physical component for a spell, his blood acting as the material component. At the same time, he answered, his tone condescending and filled with mockery:
