The Blizzard King tried to shake me off three times in the next two minutes.
The first attempt was the torso rotation again, faster this time. I held the blade in the seam and went with it, the same as before, but the speed put more force through my grip and my left hand slipped. I caught the seam edge with my fingers instead — rough ice, sharp at the fracture line, cutting into my palm. The HP drain from the cold and the HP drain from the cut ran simultaneously in my bar and produced a combined drop that was not comfortable to watch.
I watched it anyway. Kept track. Made sure I knew exactly how much margin I had left.
Thirty-four percent was the number I had started part two with. Now it was twenty-eight.
