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The yell from Grimidal was earth shattering as Lucian struck the wrist. Lucian himself also yelled, the ruin upon his body tightening with strange magics that made Lucian stronger than even the Royarch blessed by the lady. The Scythe had cut into the wrist, taking a one foot wide cut that ran from the front of his wrist through the bone and to the otherside.
Compared to the giant it was nothing, but to Lucian who had cut across a foot worth of flesh a foot deep was a victory that few could claim. A glorious strike that would strike Lucian’s name in the annals of all history as the mortal man who bled a Demi-God.
Yet he did not stop. He charged forward and ran between the legs of the mighty monster with a quick motion of the scythe. First was the right hand, now Lucian raised his scythe high above his head. Like an executioner Lucian slammed the weapon down and dug a two foot wound into it.
He yanked his scythe, his heart ablaze with all the strength Grimnir had to give. Beyond even before Lucian challenged the Jabberslyth Lucian faced off against a Giant, a dead that so many Slayers have thrown themselves into and was a mighty deed of Grimnir himself.
For a Dwarf was always fighting those larger than they were. Lucian was simply a Dwarf against this monster of a Giant.
Like an arrow missing its target, Nightshade carried Lucian across rubble and ruins from distant civilizations. The beast turned in a more reasonable manner at the same time Grimidal turned to face them with a bellowing scream of rage.
<span class="mu-s">“Bretonnian, I will savor your blood!”</span> He screamed as he reached down and gripped a large pile of rubble.
>Go for the ankles
>Finish the cut on the hand
>A thousand cuts, everywhere