"The Insurgent Magnus, huh? Sounds fancy. I thought we could be courteous to each other before getting to the more brutal part of this bit, but I suppose… your response is fine," the Ode said, a shallow smile drawing upon his face with a smooth transition.
He then looked at the bleeding stump at the end of his arm.
Flesh began to bubble there like cancerous boils laced with bright mana, forming bones, muscle and blood. Soon the Ode's hand was restored and he flexed it a couple of times – twiddling his fingers and balling the hand into a fist twice for certainty.
It only took two seconds for him to be satisfied with the result.
"Neat trick," Skullius said as he twirled Demion's Dance, the shorter of his two swords.
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