---
Not sloppy enough.
The spear assassin pushed forward again and jabbed toward Sekhmet's ribs.
Sekhmet tried to catch the spear with blood threads.
The threads snapped.
The spear struck his ribs.
Pain burst.
Sekhmet slammed into the wall.
Thud.
The alley spun slightly.
He tasted blood, and that taste tried to turn into hunger again, a starving animal clawing at the inside of his throat.
His vision sharpened from adrenaline, then blurred from poison.
He forced himself upright.
Blood Sword formed again, wobbling in his grip, trembling like it might shatter mid swing. His fingers shook, not fear, energy loss.
The blade assassin stepped in, calm, and swung for Sekhmet's neck.
Sekhmet raised Blood Sword to block.
Clang.
The blood blade fractured further, spider cracks running through it, and the impact numbed Sekhmet's forearm. The spear assassin stabbed again.
Sekhmet tried to dodge, but his legs were slower now.
