Asher controlled the blood needles with the elegant grace of someone who was well versed in blood manipulation.
He did not take a single step away from his position.
He never needed to; everyone who approached the door was ended with a blood needle.
Those who proved to be tougher were split cleanly from the torso without ever finding the cause of the slice.
His focus was still on the room.
Since the ship shook a few minutes ago, his fear had increased.
"Hopefully, he is fine," he muttered, turning his attention back to the enemies swarming him.
But he found someone who was different.
This one radiated the aura of a paragon tier fighter.
Asher frowned.
'How many of these do the enemies have?' He mused.
Not that he cared; as long as they did not come close to Silas, he was not going to actively seek them.
But this one had come.
A silver sword appeared in his palm.
The blood needles in the sky began to rotate.
