Kyrie was tired, his embers were burning dim now, weapons struck to his body as if he was a voodoo doll, blood escaping his mouth and gaping wounds, the Valkyries burned and dying as they screamed.
He had noticed that their unity failed at one moment, accompanied by screaming and self-harm, and capitalized on it to kill as many of them as he could, but their numbers were endless. No matter how many he killed, more would come to take the place of their dead sister.
It was getting annoying already. At least they had the decency to not yap or make long monologues at least. Kyrie coughed blood, the flames on his feet starting to die out, his position in the sky becoming unstable.
It seemed that his defense would meet an end soon. He could only hope that those behind him managed to win this battle in his stead. Kyrie held Wolf Prince tightly in his weakening hands, his position faltering to left and right.
