45.7 Embers

Moving in between Mathilde and the beast, I raised my sword at the ready as I mentally prepared myself for a possibly gruesome death via mauling or being eaten alive. I wouldn't let anyone die because of me, especially after they've done a lot for me.

Crouching down on the ground in my usual stance, I ignored my aching foot as I dashed forward, my right hand poised to strike at its feet in an effort to keep it off balance.

*SLASH!*

*RROROAAGHH!!!*

Judging from the screams of pain, I'd guess I hit my mark.

Flicking the blood off my sword, I quickly turned my gaze back to my target, its right side bleeding from the cut I had inflicted. Well, maybe I didn't hit my mark but a gaping gash on the side of the stomach was just as good- Oh shvt!

*WHOOSH! WHOOSH!*