The Burning

Guorzo breathed in, his tense and aching muscles relaxing, he rose both hands up, even his mangled arm would have to do some work, sweat covered in body, his hair sticking to his face as he stared ahead at the loathsome undead.

The elites battle art of fire was off-limit for him at the moment, with his sword embedded in the ground, and all of his alcohol destroyed, he couldn't even utilise the more basic arts of his kit, as for the rest, it would cause his body to break for certain, he still had other battle arts, of course, as one of Lady Syklon's top dogs he had been allowed to get his hands on some of her stashed up arts.