Arthur's posture was relaxed, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, as if he hadn't just withstood an attack that should have annihilated him and turned him into a mere memory.
His expression was one of mild amusement, a small, almost pitying smile playing on his lips. Tilting his head slightly, he spoke in a calm and almost mocking voice.
|¬Did your friends on Aramis not inform you about what happened in my fight with Duskhand? ¬|
His gaze swept over the stunned angels before him, his words dripping with condescension.
|¬You cannot kill me. ¬|
Arthur spoke while shaking his head as if he were scolding a child who had made a foolish mistake.
The shock that rippled through the ranks of the defenders of Toverus was palpable. Their eyes widened in disbelief, their minds struggling to comprehend what they were seeing.
Two transcendents had attacked Arthur, hell-bent on killing him, and yet he stood before them, completely unscathed.
