Third Person's POV
His heart pounded in his chest and his adrenaline surged through his veins as his heightened senses screamed at him to move—NOW.
With a surge of strength, Ethan seized Virelle's waist and rolled as he pulled her away from the stair wall.
The moment they moved, a black hatchet cleaved through the air and sliced through the space where Ethan's head had been just a second before.
The blade struck the black stone behind them and embedded itself deep with a sickening crunch.
Still in motion, Ethan twisted mid-roll and landed in a defensive crouch on the narrow staircase.
Virelle was disoriented but remained unharmed as she clung to his arm with her breath shallow with shock.
A bead of cold sweat trickled down Ethan's forehead as his body tensed in preparation for the eventual battle.
Dark chains materialized in his grasp and feeling their familiar weight he felt reassured.
A broken black saber hilt dangled from one end of the dark chain.
