Chapter 30: [30]:Rias
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The devil landed badly, and from how he hesitantly put more weight on one leg than the other as he rose, it was safe to say that at least something was sprained.
He began walking towards him, striding through the sundered remains of the wall, the hand unburdened with armor reaching out and brushing against the frozen surface. Power pooled, and as he grazed his palm along the ice, the hilt of a sword materialized, formed from the foundations of the wall itself. His fingers latched onto it, pulled, and the weapon came free as though drawn from a freshly oiled sheathe. He glanced at it as he walked, taking notice of the broad blade and the way mists of frost wafted and hovered over its surface.
It was not Clarent. It was not any sword he would have carried into battle. But it was adequate enough for the task at hand.
He dragged the frost blade behind him, the tip hissing as it carved icy furrows into the dirt.