The tiger stopped testing and began to kill. The next movement was a pendulum with its forepaw that created a pressure cut in the air—there was no physical blade, but the space was sharp. Vergil crossed his forearms and let the wave carry him, cushioning himself with his body and rolling to break the inertia. Still, his forearm tingled: the skin had split open in two long, shallow scratches, burning like icy fire.
He smirked, savoring the pain as a given.
"Cuts the air. Outer layer vibrates with a serrated frequency."
