Group Fighting
Nanako watched as the man disappeared at the first touch. Gisorn stood untouched, no scratches, blemishes, or scars, just a cocky smile as he stared down the group.
"Now, who's next to die?" Gisorn taunted, his voice dripping with malice.
Armond Zaraki stepped forward. "Figure something out while I distract him!"
General Mattison shouted, "Wait, we can—"
But Armond was already moving. He unleashed his small cylinder, which exploded into a double-edged sword. The weapon shimmered in the light as he spun it around, aiming to strike down Draven. Draven sidestepped, moving with an almost inhuman grace. His hand shot out, gripping the sword's blade. In an instant, the weapon vanished.
Before Armond could react, a spiked chain materialized, whistling through the air. It wrapped around his arm, the cruel spikes tearing through flesh and bone. Armond's scream echoed through the battlefield as his arm was severed, blood spraying in an arc.