Fin gritted his teeth, spitting blood again. Fragile? Maybe. But it's his domain. He needed to stop this onslaught, needed to find a weakness. The sword worked. Maybe the armor…?
He lunged again, not aiming for a knockout blow, but trying to get his hands on the armor itself. Just like the sword, maybe he could drain it, starve the power source. His fingers reached out, silver-green energy crackling—
Contact.
Pain. Not impact pain. Searing, electric agony shot up his arm, like grabbing a high-voltage fence made of pure rage. His own energy recoiled, sputtering, chaotic feedback jamming his senses.
Nope! Bad idea! Very bad idea!
He ripped his hand back instinctively, stumbling away, clutching his arm. The aura around him flickered violently, disrupted. That crimson energy… it wasn't like the sword's refined power or that shadow power. It was volatile, almost alive, and it rejected his absorption attempt completely.
