Riding against the currents of the wind, Roy's silent blades simmered with dangerous glints.
In a second he was before Haron. The poor Lord had recovered somewhat, but unfortunately he could only swerve his eyeballs.
He had the opportunity to see his foe arrive before his plummeting physique, but he could do nothing to react.
He stared, for the first time horror clouding his eyes, as Roy came — his blades swinging in a disastrous flurry.
Sharp bursts of pain filled his body. He lost control of all movements, but pain he could feel well.
The cold blades dug into his flesh and muscles, leaving bone-deep lacerations all over — even his neck, his head, his bowels were all carved into.
Pain flooded his brain as blades dug into his organs and skull, his mind muddled as the blade sliced deep into his skull, reaching for his brain matter.
