On the other side, even though Aiven was mostly focused on Olivia, he had already finished his own battle without even having to use his Tier 3 powers.
Ignoring the ordinary aboriginal soldiers, he looked at the Senior Knight on the ground who had been pierced in the abdomen by a spear and almost gutted by a scimitar.
'The name that Kelson shouted seems to be Dickens. A Senior Knight? Grandpa Kelson must love him very much.'
Lost in thought, white fibers already began to spread from Aiven's sleeve.
Like they had a mind of their own, they crawled onto the knight's body, entering his corporeal form from the bloody wounds, stitching the ragged flesh and damaged organs together like a seam.
Every stitch was precise and neat, almost an OCD's dream.
