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« on: January 30, 2014, 11:51:14 AM »
So he had been correct. His enemy did have a healing factor.
Shirou's circuits burned, a familiar white-hot pain filling his entire body as he pushed it to its limit in order to sustain the continuous fire. He quickly dropped the revolver when it ran out of ammo, retrieving his Glock from his coat in order to continue firing, the air in front of him literally resembling a wall of iron. Yet if he didn't resort to these drastic measures, he would undoubtedly be killed, as the man, howling like a wild animal continued to press through.
Shirou watched in amazement as a sword ripped through the man's head, only for it to literally regrow the next second, his body continuing forward despite momentarily lacking a brain or nervous system. Even some of the higher Dead Apostles weren't that strong!
Suddenly, the creature (he could define it as nothing else) was forced to a halt. Taking a quick look around, Shirou noticed a strange feline creature staring angrily down at the immortal man. Shirou sent the next wave of steel onward, warily regarding the feline. Was it a threat?
The creature screamed once more, before abruptly changing targets, launching itself into the air towards the new aggressor. However he was stopped in mid-charge by some telekinetic force, most likely from the cat. As it hung in the air, Shirou noticed that its wounds seemed to heal at a slower rate: a wound which had been knitting itself together suddenly slowed down, moving at a quarter of its former speed.
A man's voice sounded in his head, similar to Forest. It is up to you now. If you have the strength to finish him, do so. He appears to be weak to the iron in your swords and bullets, so use that to your advantage. He sighed. Also, if you could do so without hitting me, I would appreciate it. I cannot produce a barrier and use telekinesis at the same time, and if I somehow manage to die or sufficiently lose my concentration, our assailant goes free. Attack wisely.
Iron? No, he had clearly been healing unrestrained under that barrage of steel earlier. It was something else.
Even so...it couldn't hurt.
He turned over the blueprints of his favourite swords in his mind, before calling into them into existence with his special form of magecraft. Nine swords, each devastatingly powerful, and each long since faded from human memory, hung in the air. They formed a circle, rotating slowly, as he worked out the best angle to maximise damage to the assailant whilst minimising damage to the cat.
He thrust his hand towards the floating target. The swords' arrangement changed, each now targetting a different vital point on its body.
"Nine Lives Bladeworks Revised!!" he yelled, the blades shooting towards their targets, gleaming silver missiles which cut through the air at supersonic speed.