The first beast lunged in a flash of claws and fangs. The air itself seemed to tear apart around it. Zirel did not step back an inch. His sword—an extension of his arm—slid from his back in a fluid motion, too fast for the eye to follow. The grey blade struck not at the beast, but at the space before it.
A metallic clang rang out—the creature's claws meeting steel. Zirel pivoted on his lead leg, harnessing the shock's momentum. Like a lightning-striking serpent, his sword shifted course and sliced clean through a tendon in the beast's front right leg.
An inhuman howl burst from the creature as it stumbled, its charge broken.
