The cultist's fingers dug into Kyle's wrist like steel claws.
His grip was crushing. Unrelenting. Kyle's bones creaked under the pressure, and pain shot up his arm like a streak of fire.
But Kyle didn't care.
He gritted his teeth, eyes blazing with fury, and gathered what little mana he had left.
Lightning surged.
A burst of blue energy exploded from his palm. Hitting the cultist square in the face.
The jolt made the cultist flinch.
His grip loosened, just enough.
Kyle yanked his wrist free and didn't waste a second. He stepped in, raising Zalrielle high, and stabbed with everything he had.
The blade crackled with lightning, glowing along its edge.
The cultist tried to twist away. But not fast enough.
The blade sliced across his side, tearing through layers of leather and skin. A deep line opened across his ribs.
Blood welled up and dripped onto the floor.
The man's expression darkened. His eyes narrowed, and the playful light inside them flickered out.
