Wind Step carried him away from two of the strikes, but the third caught him across the ribs. The ice spear punched through his armor's outer layer.
Not deep enough to cause severe damage, but enough to draw blood and make him gasp in pain.
'Rhys!' Slyph's concern flooded through their connection.
"I'm fine," Rhys gritted out, though his ribs disagreed.
The Tempest Lord's Regalia had absorbed most of the impact, but the force behind a Dread-rank creature's strike was nothing to dismiss.
He retaliated immediately, both daggers slashing in a pattern Pho had drilled into him.
Low thrust to the center mass, diagonal slash across the central points, wind-enhanced spin to create distance.
The snowman that had struck him came apart in chunks, its magical animation disrupted by lightning coursing through its structure.
