The Dragonslayer Sword met the phantom head-on, gold light slamming into choking black mist.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Sparks cascaded like hissing meteors. Dragon cries and sword howls tangled through the third level, turning shattered columns into spinning shrapnel of light and shadow.
Cyanna watched from the side, heart pounding, able only to force the creeping black energy from her meridians.
The Spirits might matched at least a Level Three Heavenly Immortal. Its every strike was that of a seasoned butcher, aimed at Jared's vitals and his soul.
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