Chapter 393: Might of the Law Hero
Victor growled at the insult, and his grip on his broad sword tightened. Faint wisps of aura emanated from his soul, and my chest tightened under the pressure, restricting my breathing. My body felt heavy and my tail went limp, quieted by the sheer strength it took to move it. This was an ability, though it was too delicate and complex for me to examine with the Oracle of Eternity. The only thing I could tell was that it interacted with fate in some obscure way, reviewing, or perhaps reading, the information it found there.
Kahlen, the blade demon, appeared unconcerned, and I could just see it remained unaffected by the light.
The Justice Hero took a step forward. "Is this your true power, hero?"
"Of course not. A demon like you doesn’t deserve to witness it firsthand. This is simply my first ability, ’Justice.’ It weighs your sins against your soul and suppresses your strength accordingly. A demon like you is sure to be-" his face froze, stretching into disbelief. "...unaffected? But how?"
The blade demon lunged forward, responding to the question with a fifth-level magical technique. Cold, hard light trailed from the tips of four-bladed appendages, weaving a dizzying pattern as they spun around him. It was like a blender; if blenders could think, it had complete omnidirectional control over its blades and was dedicated to war. Whenever a blade seemed like it would collide with another or leave an opening, it abruptly redirected its course.
The storm of flashing steel swept into Victor in a dazzling display of flashing steel. The floating shield struggled to keep up as slashes filled the air, assaulting the hero from every direction. The blade demon was only a head taller than the hero, but its slashes came from all directions, cutting off every parry, dodge, or avenue of retreat.
Victor stumbled as a curved blade hooked behind him, screeching off his steel plate. The attack failed to penetrate the enchantments strengthening his gear, but the split second he was off balance was all the demon needed.
A single blade approached the hero from the side, drawing the flashing shield away. The other three lashed forward like vipers, fluidly maneuvering between the chinks in his armor and burying their points in his flesh.
Victor cried out and threw himself back, tearing himself off the impaling blades. Blood spurted from his hip, elbow, and shoulder, and he barely managed to dodge a cut at his face. It had been the first blade, which had taken advantage of his precarious stance to dip under the shield and stab at his face. He got away with his life, but it left a deep cut across his cheek.