Grey Spatium 19

"Enough," Richmal ordered, the deep well of his baritone burying the other voices. "You demean yourselves." A coiled lash of dark green, stinking liquid shivered into existence in his fist, and he met my eye. "We will waste no more breath on you, lesser."

In the same moment, I activated God Step. The room shifted in an amethyst flash, and I appeared just beside and behind Richmal. "Suit yourself," I said, conjuring an aetheric sword and sweeping it backwards.

The room exploded into chaos.

Black iron spikes shot from the ground to deflect my blade, and a gust of black wind seemed to enfold Richmal. I felt the aether blade strike home, then the wind carried my target away. A breath later, he reappeared across the room from me, his armor torn and blood seeping from a wound in his side.