"You are mine now," a red dagger materialized in Ossa's hand, one of the daggers in his spatial bracelet.
With a calculative throw, it hit the night owl's wing, tearing into its flesh.
"Screech!!" An ear-piercing screech echoed through the forest as the creature writhed in pain, its beak and left wing bleeding profusely. The red dagger was enchanted with fire magic, scorching the wound after cutting, inflicting its own pain in addition to the pain offered by the sharp blade.
Ossa calmly walked towards the black bird, his claymore in hand. "That was a fun battle, thank you," he said as he brought his claymore down, trying to cut the creature's head.
Clang! The night owl instinctively created a shadow clone to block Ossa's sword, the weak shadow clone turning into wisps of black smoke after only one strike.
The shadow had become considerably weaker after its conjurer became injured, easily losing to a single non-reinforced slash of Ossa's blade.
