Ssshh... Crack.
The chains didn't break from brute strength.
They shattered from defiance.
Blood Control: Active.
The veins in the body of Nclai were, lights, thread work of the pain and the strain, under his control.
The stocks hissed. Metal hissed. Then crack...
Pieces tinkled to fall as brittle glass.
Verrick started. Only one snap of the finger. But it was enough
Boom.
The forest blurred.
Nclai surged forward like a drawn arrow. Blood roared through his limbs, and the wind snapped against his coat.
Verrick raised his blade.
Clang!
Mana clashed with blood, but the crimson wall didn't yield.
It buckled, then burst.
Thump!
Verrick flew backward and hit the stone like a dropped puppet. His sword dimmed.
Nclai closed the gap in a breath.
A boot pressed hard into Verrick's chest.
"Not so confident now, are you?"
The words came out low, raw.
Verrick snarled. "You think this means victory, boy?"
His fingers twitched.
Whirr. Boom!
A rune lit beneath the soil and blew upward.
Debris rained.
Nclai's body recoiled, staggering from the impact.
His ribs screamed. His legs held.
Verrick was already up, summoning another mana blade, longer, twisted, unstable.
It hissed like it hated the air itself.
"You broke my trap," Verrick growled, "but you won't survive this."
He lunged.
Ssshhk!
The jagged blade tore into Nclai's side.
Not all the way through.
His blood thickened mid-strike, tense and coiled, then sealed around the edge like a vice.
Clang! Thud!
The blade cracked.
Nclai shoved.
Verrick flew back again, scraping against stone. His coat ripped.
Behind Nclai, his blood rose.
Like a crimson banner. A wall. A warning.
He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
The fight wasn't over.
Only one could fall.
......