Skill B6C9

Blake's legs tensed, body lowering, prepared to leap.

Watts' head twitched towards her. His left foot shifted back.

He'd heard her. Blake leapt, and I knew in an instant that Watts would turn and cut her down while she was in the air, unable to dodge. I was the only one close enough to intervene. Weiss was closer, but she'd need time to cast a spell. The others were further away, wounded and winded. I was the only one in a position to do anything.

[...]

My arm came around and I yelled as I hurled the dagger with all my strength.

It slammed into the middle of Salem's back.

There was a shriek from her, followed by a sound like thunder as white light cascaded out over the entire arena, just like it had when I attacked her last. It poured out, brighter than the sun, and I was flung back a second time, crashing to the floor as Salem shrieked in pain and fury. Much like Crocea Mors, the knife exploded into tiny fragments.

The light washed over everyone else, too, and they all gasped, shielding their eyes against it.

Everyone had to. Even Watts.

Even Blake, really, but she was already mid-flight, unable to stop trajectory.

Blind as she was, she crashed into Willow's back and her legs wrapped instinctively around the Mage's waist as she locked herself in place. Instincts and training kicked in despite the lack of vision. It was a position as old as time itself. The Assassin finding the Mage. Through black spots that dotted in my eyes, I saw Blake lean forward and place both blades on either side of Willow's pale neck, arms crossed.

"I'm sorry, Weiss!" Blake screamed. "Forgive me!"

The daggers I'd forged met in the middle, tearing out a chunk of Willow's throat in the process.