Asmodeus walked toward him slowly.
"You are quite persistent," he said.
Elion coughed blood onto the floor. "Thanks." He managed to say with great difficulty, in between breaths.
"That was not praise."
"I'll take it anyway."
He forced himself onto one knee. Shockingly, his armour had cracked across the chest. Solron's work had saved his life again.
'My legendary grade armour!' He almost cried out in agony. But at least it had done its job. Without it, that single strike would have crushed his torso.
Asmodeus lifted one hand, and a spatial cut began to form. Zenith, who had recovered a bit, reappeared behind him.
She wrapped both arms around his torso. Asmodeus looked down at her hands.
Zenith's face was pale. Blood ran from her mouth and nose, one wrist was bent unnaturally, and her breathing came in ragged inhales and exhales, but she held on.
"Go!" she screamed.
Mana erupted from her body.
