"I'm goin', wife," Bannok muttered. "Take care of me, will ya?"
"Pff, go on," She groaned. "Git."
"Love you too," He scoffed before turning away and breaking into a jog.
One of the flying angels dove towards him with spear in hand, this one with a myriad of wings and ablaze with holy fire.
"⌈Crimson Stride⌋," Bannok swatted it away like a horsefly, a red trail following his weapon. The male angel smashed into a building, its wings broken, a cut on its chest, and with another blood-red slash of energy cleaving the creature into top and bottom.
A slash and magical after-effect?
That... wasn't a skill Ariadne was familiar with. It wasn't the first time Bannok had hid her abilities from her... but it was inconceivable to her that he was drunk-training in the fields behind her back.
In an instant, Bannok was engaged with the tentacle-thing, dodging beams of light and its pounding claws.
