I don't respond to Enrydral's ultimatum with words.
Instead, I draw my blade.
White Serpent Fang—or simply Serpent—materializes in my hand, its silvery edge gleaming with an otherworldly sheen.
The B-Grade Armament hums with latent power, eager to feast on mystical characteristics.
"Tyrrion," I say without turning my head. "Get back. Find somewhere safe and stay there."
The dwarf scrambles backward, his misshapen legs carrying him with surprising speed. I hear him take cover behind the rubble of a collapsed building.
Good.
Now I can focus entirely on the monster before me.
Enrydral's transformed body tenses, every mutated muscle coiling in preparation.
Then he lunges.
WHOOSH!
The speed is inhuman.
One moment he's twenty feet away, the next he's upon me, claws extended toward my throat.
I activate Tracing.
My body shifts through the Layers of Existence, phasing through his attack. I rematerialize three feet to his left, Serpent already in motion.
