Arc Royale [Ch. 30]

Despite the Grimm all around him, he looked up, sensing the danger in time to see the man come hurtling out the sky. There was a brief moment of confusion, a short widening of his eyes as he questioned why Grimm – best suited to sitting far out of attack range and summoning Grimm – would willingly throw his life away like this, but there was little time to think further. Little time to choose another path, either. He was fast, yes, but a man moving at terminal velocity was still that, and with the Grimm surrounding him on all sides, there was little room to move aside.

Little reason to, either.

Crocea Mors came up, his knee bunched and one foot sliding back in preparation of the sudden weight he would take as the body came crashing down onto the sword's tip. He was prepared for a Nevermore to catch Grimm and take him aside, or for Beowolves to swarm him and wrench his sword away at the last.

What he did not expect was for his hardened and tempered steel to punch through the bone-plated chest, through aura that shattered in a sparkle of red light, and through flesh, muscle and organs in one go.

—Arc Royale [Ch. 30]