He sprang up, his wound now finished healing, Dorian hadn't even felt the flare of pain as the wound completely healed. That was the worst part - when a wound healed it would erupt in a flash of pain.

But Dorian tuned it out, instead utterly focused on the [Ember Knight] strolling leisurely towards him.

It still wasn't taking him seriously, but that was OK. He would take advantage of being underestimated. The knight shifted it's grip on the sword, displaying the flat side of the blade. It then swung suddenly with great force toward him, looking to swat him with the gigantic sword like a fly.

Dorian could only grin, this is perfect.

He activated [Iron Skin], and as the blade got within arm's reach, he grabbed it with both hands, gingerly clutching the blade with both hands. He was lifted off his feet as Dorian joined the knight's swing. He had to act quickly. Immediately, Dorian gripped hard on the sword, the blade sinking into both his hands, but Dorian ignored the pain.

Instead, Dorian focused on his attack. His body was currently aligned with the sword, he was horizontal and his right hand was what stopped him from falling down, his left kept him horizontal.

As if trying to extend the blade of the sword from the hilt, he pulled the blade upwards, causing Dorian's body to travel down. Dorian bent his leg at the knee, and as he moved down towards the head of the knight he extended it rapidly, his foot made contact with the jaw of the knight, and it's head shot back.

Dorian let go of the blade, and his hands burned with desperate salubrity.

He stood as the knight stumbled back, scrambling to right theirself.

Dorian hadn't been able to see past the helmet so far, but now as he stared at the knight. He could see clearly the eyes of the thing. Beastly eyes, they were not normal, human eyes. And within them, shone a perfervid rage. Likely due to feeling wronged, it had been toying with him, and he had taken advantage.

Now was the time for righteous reckoning.

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In it's fury, it charged Dorian, once it was within a few metres, it hit the sword into the tough ground and jumped, propelling itself upward as it rotated the sword above it's head to slam it down with two hands.

As it fell nearer, Dorian did not move. He didn't want to make any movement until the last few moments so that the knight would be content with staying in it's furious state.

It drew nearer, and nearer, and nearer. Finally, the [Ember Knight] reached it's attack point, it mustered up all it's strength into a swing.

It crashed down towards Dorian with a baleful aura, less than second away from ripping into Dorian's skull, divulging the mass of matter inside.

And yet, this did not happen. Instead, Dorian moved. In a blur of alacritousness, Dorian's shortsword met the behemoth of a weapon.

Dorian was not aiming for the weapon, but beyond.

[Spacerend]

Time collapsed into silence. An unmoving tapestry of perfect clarity was all he could see. He moved freely, untouched by by the weight of inexorable stillness. In this stolen moment, he was the only operative being.

Yet, he was still restricted. He could feel that he could only move upon an invisible string. Attached to his blade, but it didn't feel like he was moving. It felt like - when he tried to move the blade - a string pulled and the blade moved to his will, not the muscles in his body.

So, in fact, he was also suspended in time, everything except his will.

Another drawback appeared unforeseen. He could only move the sword in one plane, and at a limited distance. The plane, it seemed, was the plane in which the sword had been moving previous to time's restriction. The distance? Approximately half a metre.

It was enough. Perfect even. The blade had been moving upwards to the point where the jaw of the knight transformed into the neck.

Perfect.

The blade had been just about to touch the blade of the greatsword. And even it in it's great width, did not span a whole half-metre. He moved the sword, it phased through the large sword and out the other end.

Perfect.

As time unfroze, he could feel his locked muscles give way to the power of his previous momentum; function returning to him.

[Arcane Shortsword] ripped through the air, the medium it travelled through abruptly changing to the malformed flesh of the knight, it ripped through it all the same.

The shortsword travelled through, like a knife through butter. Carving a path where a path should not be carved, through the neck - just under the jaw bone, as the path lengthened it nipped at the ear of the knight, and then exited at the back of the skull - level with the eyes.

Light faded from the [Ember Knight's] eyes, and it died.

The greatsword completed it's course, carving it's own path through his upper knee and out his popliteal fossa.

He fell, losing a limb. But his mind was only on victory as he stared at the message.

[Lv. 122 Ember Knight defeated]