No blood flowed. Skin, muscle, bone, and organs writhed like a mass of worms, rapidly re-fusing and regenerating as new cells were born, sealing the wound in seconds.
This was the result of Orion's Siren Regeneration, a skill that granted him superhuman healing. As long as his head and heart were not dealt a fatal blow, he was effectively immortal.
The attack had, at least, allowed Orion to get a look at his opponent: a shadowy figure shrouded in black mist. It had a humanoid body, powerfully built and as tall as Orion himself.
Within the shadow, Orion could make out a stiff, dead face—or rather, a cold, human-like mask. Behind the mask, two motes of lifeless green ghostfire burned for eyes. They stared at Orion, glinting with a cold light.
At that moment, Orion's figure flashed. With two consecutive leaps, he was high in the air. In the spot where he had just been, another massive scythe blade materialized from the void, slicing toward where his neck had been.
It missed.
