Dyon's gaze flashed once more, a bloody swirl of black cutting into Emytheus' frantically dodging figure.
"My wives probably feel fear knowing I'm battling here. My daughter feels fear knowing she might never see her father again. My family, my friends. They feel fear even if I do not."
Dyon knew it well. How could he look down on Emytheus for feeling fear? Wouldn't he then have to look down on his own family and friends as well? Wouldn't he himself feel fear if it was his daughter fighting this battle and not himself? What was worry if not fear…?
Dyon aura surged, his fist only barely missing Emytheus' head. However, the very same corrosive emptiness that came from his gaze followed up toward his elbow just as it passed by Emytheus' neck, taking a piece out of it.
