With Soul Vision and Seraphim's Embrace, I could see every movement in excruciating detail. The way his staff twisted, leaving trails of crimson energy in its wake. The complex sigils he wove with his free hand, blood magic condensing into formations of staggering complexity. The shift in his stance, weight transferring from back foot to front in a motion too fluid to be entirely human.
I saw it all. But seeing wasn't enough.
I parried the first strike, barely, my sword screaming in protest as cracks spread further along its length. The second blow I dodged, contorting my body in ways that should have been impossible, the edge of his staff missing my throat by millimeters.
The third hit home.
