CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Phoenix changed his grip on Blódbál and hefted it to his shoulder. The undead swayed closer, blades glinting.
Four steps away.
Taking careful aim, he threw the blade like a spear, putting all his improbably high strength behind it.
Three steps away.
The sword sailed through the air, straight between the undead priests. Being dead, none of them had quick enough reactions to catch it or step in front of it this time.
Two steps away.
Swords descended toward Phoenix’s unprotected head.
Blódbál flew unerringly toward its target. Its magic field sliced neatly through the Priests’ shield without even a purple-blue flicker.
Perhaps sensing a disturbance in his shield, the High Priest of Set spun around – just in time for Blódbál to embed itself up to the hilt in his
