Uriel frowned.
He pushed off his feet hard and retreated, but again, he felt space twist, and rather than moving back, he shot toward the Spirit, who was swinging down toward his neck once more.
His palm shot out to slap the blade away, but then his vision shuttered, a frame of darkness consuming him, and when he regained his sight, the blade had sped past his arm, mere inches from his neck.
His deflect had missed.
The darkness in his eyes deepened, and without waiting a single moment, he supercharged his body with light aether, swaying to the side to dodge.
His vision went dark, and his neck was cut open, his body having swayed…into the cutting blade. His divine root managed to pull him back at the last second, saving him from having his head chopped off.
Blood jetted from his neck, drenching his face as he took a step back, still in a daze. Yet the Spirit pressed on, its face cold.
