The miscreant living thing punched his shoulder and dragged Eria to the dark. Eria smelled the scent of blood rolling down. The youngest prince of mermaids wrestled and struggled to get rid of that misery. He succeeded and the being left him down but his sword already slipped out of his palm.
He struck a tree and spread on the wet earth. He coiled out of the jagged pain. His palm touched the earth allowed him to lean back on the tree. He scanned the environment; it was more assemble to floating colors in a glass of water. A great stun that dominated onto his whole being. He would not deny that it had mixed with terror.
He grabbed his shoulder and gazed at that unforgettable wound and certainly unforgivable one. "Well, you caused the first wound." His eyes caught the sword. Before he ran to his weapon the demon sat right in front of him, expanded its wings.
