Numerous copies of Malachi's giant sword materialized in the air and plummeted down towards Ezra. He dodged and weaved, his now healed wings and tail allowing him to maneuver through the deadly rain. Despite his agility, several swords found their mark, piercing his flesh and drawing blood.
Ezra gritted his teeth, enduring the pain and focusing on Malachi. With a burst of speed, he closed the distance and drove his sword through Malachi's gut. Malachi's tentacles wrapped around him, squeezing with bone-crushing force. Ink surged forward, sizzling as it burned his skin. Ezra gritted his teeth, enduring the pain as he spread his wings, trying to break free, but Malachi held fast, a tentacle wrapping around one of his legs.
Malachi's sword flashed out, severing Ezra's wings. His tentacle held Ezra up and then swung down with tremendous force. Malachi kept swinging Ezra into the ground, beating a crater into the floor.