Quoted By:
[Respect - Senior]
"Have some faith, punk. We've both got our jobs, and right now, mine is making sure you get out of here alive."
Thick tendrils of corded muscle sprout out of your wounds, drawn towards each other as if by magnets. Pulsating organs netted in capillaries settle into place as a fresh canvas of skin seals everything up, allowing you to stand tall once more.
You exhale. Heated breath escapes your lungs, your war-drum heart going into overdrive. Veins throb, nerves sharpen, and the world seems to slow down as your body begins to release a colorful cocktail of epinephrine, endorphins and more straight into your bloodstream.
By the gods, you'll never get tired of that battle high.
Roland calls out to you, his regal voice tinged with barely-restrained rage. "Regeneration? Very well, then; for your insolence, I thought to let you bleed out and suffer, but my next strike shall be my last."
[Sanguine]
You roll your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, you're a one-pump-chump. No need to tell me."
His voice goes cold. "Wretch."
Even in your enhanced state you're barely able to perceive Roland's attack, much less block it. As his flashing blade parts your head from your shoulders, it's all you can do to sink a fist into his face, forcing a grunt out of him even as your grinning skull thumps to the ground.
[2/7]
