The serrated paper broadsword came whistling down like a falling guillotine, parting the air with a high-pitched sonic shriek.
"Shift left—now!" the First Player roared, his acid spear thrusting upward with all his physical strength to deflect the descending blade!
The spear's tip collided with the flat of the paper broadsword, creating a deafening screech that sent sparks showering across the floorboards.
The physical shockwave shoved the youth back two paces, but the deflection altered the blade's lethal trajectory by three inches.
The razor-sharp edge grazed the striker's left sleeve, slicing through the fabric and drawing a thin crimson line across her shoulder.
"Are you hit?" the youth called out, stepping between her and the towering construct with his hunting knife drawn.
"Just a scratch... barely nicked the skin!" the dark-haired striker replied, her voice trembling not with fear, but with intense, blazing adrenaline.
