Odd3 Lance cuts persona shadows

And with that assent, it was on. Adolin’s sword shone its silver as it tore through the ranks of these fodder, always coming in groups of three or four, never strong enough to be armored against the Shardblade. The arithmetic was the only thing keeping him busy.

Lancelot, too, was holding his own, slashing through a table, a tower, a faceless bear in strange dress. His sword, it seemed, was quite handy at dealing with more foes at once. The shadow-creatures summoned up wind, ice, lightning, and it barely mattered to him. He fought through the pain like nothing could stop him.