Arlott looked down at Veth.
His eyes glowed; flame curling lazily off his blade as he took slow deliberate steps toward the crater where Veth lay.
He pressed the sword tip to Veth's throat.
"Any last words," he said.
Veth looked up at him.
Then laughed.
"Fool."
Arlott's instincts screamed.
He moved.
Too late.
BOOM.
The blood that had splattered on his clothes detonated simultaneously; every droplet, every stain, every trace of Veth's blood that had landed on him throughout the entire fight going off at once.
The shockwave threw him backwards, his mana barrier shattering on impact, the force of it hitting him like a wall he hadn't seen coming.
He landed hard.
Skidded.
Came to a stop on one knee, clothes in tatters, breathing ragged.
He looked up.
Veth was pulling himself out of the crater; battered, regenerating slowly, his usual grin nowhere on his face for once.
He looked at Arlott with something that hadn't been there before.
Despair.
