บท 945: Best At...

An eruption of fire turned whatever blood and gore there would have been to ash. In that moment, a headless corpse fell to the ground, much of its shoulders and collarbone burnt to black. 

Leonel's fingers flickered, causing another pair of metallic leg sleeves to shoot to Little Tolly. 

His feet glided past several attacks, his left hand continuously tapping in the air. The speed of his fingers was so fast that concentrated blasts of air would arc downward every time he struck, it was as though he was playing the piano on the back of the wind, his veins pulsing with an undying power. 

'[Meteoric Impact].'

Whenever Leonel got even a semblance of breathing room, the rhythmic tapping of his fingers would come to a halt and his spear would pierce out like a spiraling fire dragon, shaking the air and imploding the head of yet another warrior.