Villain Ch 1685. Regretless [Part 2]
Allen landed hard, boot-first into the back of the "Saintsplitter."
His sword followed, slashing in an upward arc that caught the monster's arm mid-swing and ripped it clean off. Silver ichor sprayed like a fountain, splattering across Allen's coat, still warm, almost sticky. It hissed on contact with his aura, the smell of sanctified rust and burned oil punching the air like incense gone wrong.
The monster let out a warbled scream, voice-box shredded, half-human and half-modem static. Its remaining hand still clung to its sanctified axe like reflex—loyalty etched in ruined muscle memory.
Allen didn't flinch.
He spun low, sliced through its knee joint with brutal efficiency, and then—before the thing could even fall—
He shadow stepped above it again.
And came down with a vertical cleave straight through the collarbone and out the hip.
-THRKKK!
