"I've been meaning to ask, just how much blood is in that body of yours?
Aether didn't respond; instead, he took the chance to catch his breath, limping toward The Jack. The fight has only been going on for some minutes, and he's already bleeding like crazy; he even had to take off his cloak to wrap it around his biggest wounds, but there were still many others he couldn't take care of.
If it wasn't for Praise helping his body pump enough blood to cover the one lost, or at least try to cover it, his whole body would have turned yellow by now.
His legs could hardly keep his weight anymore, and his knees felt like sticks ready to break any second.
And yet he didn't say anything. He continued his march without any purpose, trying to make his fist finally land. But to no luck, his knuckles were the same as they were from the beginning, the only scratches being from hitting the ground.
