With a sharp grinding sound and the release of sparks, Mifune's blade made it through Herriman's armor field, his hit scoring nowhere particularly vital but still leaving a wound across Herriman's side. Herriman's momentum took him forwards and away from Mifune, and he wheeled around, turning to face him. He glanced down at his side, and huffed.
"Slippery bastard..." Herriman muttered to himself, feeling his virulent black blood running down his side in small, individual rivers. He needed to play this defensively, wear Mifune out. "...come on!" He shouted, adopting a defensive stance
A feminine voice from the stands caught his ear, and one of the eyes on his back saw Priroda, standing there. Was she cheering him on? It felt strange. Normally, when he killed someone, he was used to them staying dead, not coming back minutes later to cheer him on in a fight.
"Slippery bastard..." Herriman muttered to himself, feeling his virulent black blood running down his side in small, individual rivers. He needed to play this defensively, wear Mifune out. "...come on!" He shouted, adopting a defensive stance
A feminine voice from the stands caught his ear, and one of the eyes on his back saw Priroda, standing there. Was she cheering him on? It felt strange. Normally, when he killed someone, he was used to them staying dead, not coming back minutes later to cheer him on in a fight.