Blood gushed like a stream, pooling on the ground after the ambush. There was Erin Voldor with his outstretched arm, his sword an extension of his hand. And there was also Lyle Mantra, with green flames covering his face and hand.
Lyle couldn't foresee the attack because it had been masked by nothingness. Thus, he was helpless to stop it, and it struck a weak point that he had tried to hide since the beginning.
"Ambushes are for cowards, Erin Voldor," said Layla with a weak smile as blood dripped from her mouth. Her hand reached toward the sword impaled to her right chest, and she tried to snap it in half. However, her strength was elusive. "Take this… damn thing… out."
Time seemed frozen in the plaza as the crowd saw Layla step between Lyle and his ambusher. A sword made a precise penetration of her body to reveal itself on her back, like a bloodthirsty fiend. Rivulets of blood trickled down the sharp blade, taking away what little life the knight had.
