There wasn't even a single dent in its exterior and before he could throw another punch, Knight formed one of his special thin blades with his open arm to slice across his torso. The blade sliced through the armour with ease and since it wasn't really made for protecting against cutting damage, it cut through like butter.
Blood spewed out from the slash and Jokull stumbled back a step.
Before he could steady himself, he was hit by a kick to the chest, and the man's foot was coated in that fortified metal.
He was forced off his feet from the kick and was forced away more than several metres. Knight simply stood against the remaining fighters, without a slither of fear in his eyes.
He wasn't fearless because he was arrogant.
He was fearless because he had exactly what he needed to murder every single cadet that laid ahead of him.
"Who's next?" He asked, swivelling the blade around with incredible swiftness.
