Liam finally lowered his hand.
There was no longer a need to keep it raised. All of the swords he had summoned were already suspended in place, drawn together through attraction until they formed a massive, glowing red sphere in midair. The dense mass of blades had completely encased the masked Cerebus member. The trap was so precise and so tightly compacted that it was impossible to even see the man inside anymore. He was sealed from every angle, surrounded by blades pointing inward like the teeth of a beast that refused to let go.
The construction was perfect. Every slight movement the masked man attempted now resulted in his body being continuously sliced, destroyed, and forced to regenerate. The process wouldn't end. It was a loop, a cycle of injury and healing with no escape.
Yet even as Liam stared at what should have been the final result of the battle, a question refused to leave his mind.
Was this really a victory?
