*****
Nira's eyes befell upon her cut arm, now lifelessly settled on the ground and her face twitched with pain and surprise, causing her to quickly take a leap back to make distance.
At the end of the dying elven party, shock covered Alaric's whole face for some seconds before a smirk planted itself the next second.
'Truly perfected' was the only thought that ran through his head.
The crimson blood that stained Arthur's blood weapon was not absorbed unlike other times, the weapon itself telling him to dispose of it, deeming it worthless to absorb.
Arthur slashed his sword harmlessly, staining a small patch of ground crimson.
Nira's hand quickly moved to the gaping hole on her shoulder, trying to heal it with the help of Wither while Arthur's sound echoed out in her ears like a reaper's call.
"This was for Thionne." He remarked, not a shred of emotion planted upon his face.
