The magical weapons tore through the air, their blades leaving trails of silver light as they converged on their target. The demon moved with surprising speed for its bulk, its hands batting away most of the projectiles.
But not all.
Three swords found their mark, embedding deeply into the creature's shoulder, thigh, and abdomen.
Black ichor sprayed from the wounds, sizzling where it touched the ground. The demon staggered but didn't fall. Instead, it fixed its eyes on Regulus, hatred burning in their crimson depths.
"Ptui!" The creature spat a mouthful of black blood to the side, its voice a guttural rumble that seemed to vibrate the very air. "You are quite strong for a human. I commend you." Its mouth split in a grotesque approximation of a smile, revealing rows of serrated teeth. "But you won't live long."
Regulus's response was cold, empty of boasting or fear. "Neither will you."
