Two sharp blades pierced the Crimson Monarch's torso. Bright, hot pain rippled through his body. He could feel the blades cutting into his flesh, blood coating the black edges.
Wounds of this magnitude had long since ceased to mean anything to the Crimson Monarch. It wasn't just about regeneration, like any experienced fighter, he wouldn't scream from something like this.
Thump.
Taking advantage of his brief weakness, Adam tore forward, plunging his fist into the Crimson Monarch's stomach.
The impact took him off the dark blades, throwing him back several meters. Adam hadn't been able to do that earlier, but now the Crimson Monarch lost his balance and firm grip on the ground.
Yet, even in this situation, he naturally found himself on his feet, a few meters away from the two Phantoms.
