Sync scoffed when he caught that green light glowing faintly on Guy’s exposed chest, having an idea of what the latter was trying to do. It was rather shameful that the latter had to resort to healing himself in order to stand a chance, but it wasn’t like Sync had ever thought highly of him. He didn’t plan on letting the man get too far, and thus prepared to rush at him with another series of attacks.
But the God-General didn’t get the chance to when the swordsman finally attacked, raising his arm to repel the first slash. However, the blond forced him to remain on the defense, trying to match Guy’s sudden speed. In an attempt to block a lower slash, however, Sync left his upper body wide open, the blade slicing deeply into his right shoulder while specks of blood dotted the clay floor. The attack caught him by surprise, but before he could recover the latter was already descending upon him with his final strike.
There was a loud clang! as metal collided with metal before one of the two caved against the pressure of the arte.
Flying shards of metal ripped into Sync’s flesh, cutting deeply into the skin underneath his, now exposed, eye. Blood began to pour down his forehead from where the mask had been pressed down from the force of Guy’s attack, matching with the deep patch of red that surrounded his shoulder. In the end the severity of the attack broke off three fifths of his mask, though what was left stubbornly remained hooked to his face. For the first time since the start of the fight, pain began to cloud Sync’s mind.
Yet that did nothing to stop him. Instead of being impressed the God-General's anger skyrocketed. Why the hell didn't Guy fight back like this sooner? If Sync hadn’t already known that the blond was too stupid, he would’ve been under the impression that the swordsman was just playing around with him!
“Bastard!” Now there was nothing to hide the murderous glare that Sync gave Guy, already rushing towards him in a fit of rage. Clenching his left hand into a tight fist, the God-General swung upwards in another fierce uppercut.
However, Sync couldn’t care less if it actually connected. In reality, the swing served as nothing more than a distraction while he prepared for his real attack, right hand clenched in the same manner. All of a sudden the God-General twisted his body, outstretching his arm as he shoved his right palm into the middle of the swordsman’s chest. A purple flash appeared at the point of connection, seemingly harmless at first, before the ghastly symbol of the curse slot carved itself right into its victim.
Re: Coliseum Floor - North
But the God-General didn’t get the chance to when the swordsman finally attacked, raising his arm to repel the first slash. However, the blond forced him to remain on the defense, trying to match Guy’s sudden speed. In an attempt to block a lower slash, however, Sync left his upper body wide open, the blade slicing deeply into his right shoulder while specks of blood dotted the clay floor. The attack caught him by surprise, but before he could recover the latter was already descending upon him with his final strike.
There was a loud clang! as metal collided with metal before one of the two caved against the pressure of the arte.
Flying shards of metal ripped into Sync’s flesh, cutting deeply into the skin underneath his, now exposed, eye. Blood began to pour down his forehead from where the mask had been pressed down from the force of Guy’s attack, matching with the deep patch of red that surrounded his shoulder. In the end the severity of the attack broke off three fifths of his mask, though what was left stubbornly remained hooked to his face. For the first time since the start of the fight, pain began to cloud Sync’s mind.
Yet that did nothing to stop him. Instead of being impressed the God-General's anger skyrocketed. Why the hell didn't Guy fight back like this sooner? If Sync hadn’t already known that the blond was too stupid, he would’ve been under the impression that the swordsman was just playing around with him!
“Bastard!” Now there was nothing to hide the murderous glare that Sync gave Guy, already rushing towards him in a fit of rage. Clenching his left hand into a tight fist, the God-General swung upwards in another fierce uppercut.
However, Sync couldn’t care less if it actually connected. In reality, the swing served as nothing more than a distraction while he prepared for his real attack, right hand clenched in the same manner. All of a sudden the God-General twisted his body, outstretching his arm as he shoved his right palm into the middle of the swordsman’s chest. A purple flash appeared at the point of connection, seemingly harmless at first, before the ghastly symbol of the curse slot carved itself right into its victim.