The charging champion hunter seemed wholly unbothered by the flames, there was no signs of discomfort, no sound of pain emitted from behind the mask, even as the robes caught fire, the hunter kept moving forward, and soon, two blades clashed.
"Foul creature…" the silver knight grunted, against his Zweihander, such a puny blade should be easy to swat away, but it felt incredibly heavy, the force behind the swing was unnatural, no fighting spirit had been sensed, and yet, a mere swing required all of his focus to be blocked.
It might be explained by the curse that befell him, but no, that alone was not enough to warrant for him to struggle to do something so basic- With another surge of fighting spirit, he freed himself of the shadow hold, and stomped forward, pressing against the black blade as the masked executioner of heroes held his ground.
