Chapter 13: Witch Of The West
On the battlefield, no one is above the rest. Even the strongest can fall to the sheer number of the weak.
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Buzz!
The space ahead of me shimmered with spatial energy. A tall, solid door stood before me—but I hesitated. The downside of this ability was clear: I had no idea what was waiting outside.
The moment I opened these doors, I could be hit by an attack not even meant for me. Still, I tightened my grip on Rai’ki, its blue glow reflected in my eye, and reached for the doorknob with my left hand.
SWOOSH!
A blood thorn shot past my face, slicing my cheek open. Blood spurted. Just an inch closer, and it would’ve torn the skin right off.
Most people would freeze in fear. But not me. I didn’t know what kind of life I’d lived before, but even a near-death experience didn’t rattle me.
The old me was either insane—or involved in a very dangerous business.
With fluid steps, I dodged left and slashed—cutting the blood thorn clean in two.
Bam!