Faylan dropped into a crouch and slashed upward, his blade barely penetrating the creature's woody stalk but carrying it up and back. The armour rating of its body was too high for his standard sword, he reached out, tapping his interface quickly and grabbing the black blade as his current sword was replaced by Arondite.Â<br/><br/>Kyle blinked at the sight of the new blade. It was one of those weapon-skill synced Noble Phantasm weapons.Â<br/><br/>Faylan activated his Shroud of Terror skill and was immediately engulfed in black flames. His status bars became only visible to him and all of them jumped by one rank.<span style="font-style: italic">I am the repugnant, the hated. My name unworthy of praise. My body unworthy of envy. Thus do I hate.</span><br/><br/>Kyle stepped back as a thousand keening cries emitted from Faylan's cloaked form. The grass withered at his boots, turning into dry black stalks. He seemed to speak, a taunt of sorts but all that came was an insane battle cry.Â<br/><br/>The red maneater withered as the sword cut though it like how a knife cuts through warm butter. Then he turned to face them, there seemed to be a killing intent, so Kyle stepped back, raising his spear. Player-verses-player was always on in most parts of the world and the Deadly Field's was no exception. If Faylan did turn berserk and attack them now, the best chance they stood was to run. "Something is not right here..." Kyle warned as he stepped back, preparing to run.Â