Noble healing

As soon as he’d batted down all of the rough wooden needles D hurled at
him during a leap back, Mayerling felt composure coming over his mind. It
was the next instant that he saw a thick flash of silvery light. His injured
arms hadn’t recovered their previous speed yet. D’s longsword, thrust with
calculated precision at this hole in Mayerling’s defenses, slid neatly into the
Noble’s stomach.

As the Noble thudded to the ground in a bloody mist, the girl ran like the
wind to his side. “Please, try not to shake me so much,” Mayerling told her.
He smiled wryly under his pained breathing.

D came over. Two pairs of eyes met, the huntsman and the prey. Both men’s
eyes had a mysterious hue of emotion to them.
“You did well to dodge that strike,” D said softly. No matter how deep the
wound to Mayerling’s stomach, it wouldn’t be the end of a Noble. Once the
sword was pulled out, even a wound from D would eventually heal.

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