Flynn didn’t have time to think about what to do with the frenzied comrade- having him lunge and attack him gave him the firsthand experience of the girl he had attacked in the cafeteria- only this time, Isken was armed. Kuro Kamaitachi was so securely wrapped around his body that he couldn’t get it ready while dodging the attacks. The power and accuracy of Rayne’s physical blows was astonishing- and if it wasn’t for her agility, he would have been wounded. As much as he wanted to secure Isken to exchange gratitude to her, he had to take down a guard. In a couple of nods he told Cuvie to take down the guard on the left, as he drew his Kama to the one on the right.
The lack of room was less than ideal for Flynn’s weapon of choice- however through it’s versatility he quickly thought of a strategy he had trained successfully for situations such as this. He held the chain in his left hand, the blade in his right, as he took to a combat ready stance. Flynn tilted his head, indicating for the guard to take first strike. A bitter, fake laugh muffled from within the guard’s helmet- an obvious refusal to Flynn’s invitation. Flynn slid down into a box-splits position, violently swinging the chain into a single blow to the guard’s ankles, taking him by surprise as he was taken back. He could still hear Isken’s cries, somewhat distracting since the heat of battle had not yet bloomed.
“You little shit!” The guard hissed, despite the fact that he himself was the shorter (and more rounded) of the two men. He grabbed the hilt of his sword and lunged at Flynn, who slid on the floor to dodge the attack. He swung the chain at the guard’s feet again, the impact softened by the guard’s sword. Quickly pulling himself off the floor, Flynn regained his stance, using his wrapped left arm as a shield, the blade of the right pointed at his foe. The guard swung at Flynn’s left arm to check the strength of the chain. A grin spread under the unmasked region of his helmet as he forced a burst of pressure, the end of the sword scratching Flynn’s shoulder. Flynn winced, as in a shot of agility he thrust forwards, stabbing the guard in the abdomen. He pulled out, spun around within reasonable distance, and wiped the blood onto his sleeve. Through a small, non-hindering, sacrificial injury, Flynn now knew that in terms of agility, he had the upper hand. He gave a sigh of relief, and small smile had crept to the corner of his mouth. The guard was breathing quite deeply.
“Don’t get cocky, boy! That piece o’ shit little knife of yours aint nothing like the broadsword of a real man!”
The guard had stamina, Flynn could give him that, however he certainly lacked intelligence. He was bleeding heavily from his belly.
“Give it up, old man,” Flynn sighed. “The only thing that saved you there was your fat. I will not be so gentle in the next hit.”
The guard roared as he charged and swung the blade down at an astonishing speed for a critically injured, dumpy man. As Flynn blocked with the spread chain of his Kama, the guard staggered slightly. He sighed as he crossed his arms, causing the chain to wrap around the blade. He pushed out, causing the blade to move towards the guard, who stumbled backwards from fatigue, his stubbornness the only reason why he had still clung to his sword.
“Pity,” Flynn said as the sword hovered shortly above the bridge of the guard’s nose. “For a man to die by his own sword is a disgrace.” He flinched as he gave he grabbed the hilt of the sword and thrust downwards in a fatal blow. The disturbing sound of the skull crushing, and the feeling of the blade slipping through the brain and cracking out again through the back of the head caused Flynn’s skin to shiver. The smell of human blood was disgusting. To make matters worse, the alarm was starting to ring in his ears. They had to make their escape, fast, even if it ment unfair play.
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