let me go
One by one, his foes fall. He does not bother to unfurl Harbinger, striking non-vital points with the back of his blade. He shall be their captor, not their executioner.
His mind feels almost as if he is watching the battle from farther away, taking it in distantly, nowhere near as present as he should be amidst gunfire from trafficked weapons and slashes from broken bottles and rusty pipes. He is not concerned with their attacks, for his Aura is still barely impacted by this entire conflict. He shall be fine.
He does not know if Clover will be the same.
