"Pretty sturdy."
Aleister said in surprise, "What kind of piano-wire trap is this..."
Iver shook his head. "No, not quite... Nearly a quarter of them have already snapped from the impact. Their levels are too low; they were broken entirely by the collision with the body. In a battle between opponents of the same level, they'd probably only be able to wrap around someone a few times at most."
"So... the research failed?"
"I'll try something else."
While Iver and Aleister chatted, the Childs of the Moon, who had been warily keeping their distance, fired magical bullets at them one after another.
It was merely a probing volley—but it was also clear that their accuracy was rather poor. Of the roughly twenty magical bullets flying straight at them, even if Iver and Aleister neither dodged nor evaded, only five or six would have struck them. The rest had all missed—though one could also say they were sealing off their movement options.
Iver did not even move a finger. A wall of blood energy condensed before him instead. The blood orb beside him immediately lost half its volume.
It swallowed almost all the magical bullets. They entered from one side, splashed up a few droplets of blood, and then vanished without a trace, failing to emerge from the other side. Instead, they caused the wall to grow several inches larger. Two of the magical bullets veered far off course and easily shattered the walls on either side.
"This kind of building has been protected by preservation spells... That attack should be around the Third Level. It's quite useful as a defensive technique."
As he spoke, Iver extended a finger and fiddled with the air, sending the stationary wall of blood hurtling toward the Childs of the Moon.
It started out slowly,