Elayra grit her teeth and closed her eyes, bracing for an impact that never came.
	Drust snarled loudly as Ghent’s arm wrapped around his before he could bring the hilt down on Elayra. 
	At the sound of Ghent’s voice, she gave a small gasp and opened her eyes. She almost wished she had kept them closed. The sight of his awkward, poorly balanced position lit by the tail of the green flash made her groan.
	“You [i]idiot![/i]” she muttered, her words nearly drowned out by an echoic battle cry as a luminescent ghost rushed through the trees a couple yards away. It collided with another, and the two vanished in a puff of vapor.
	Drust’s arm scarcely moved when Ghent tried pulling further back on it, the Knight undaunted by the dagger pointed toward him. 
	[b]“I’m [i]serious,[/i] Drust!”[/b]
	A menacing, twisted smirk jerked the corner of Drust’s lips upward as another phantom light flashed by.
	“Is that even possible?” Drust asked tightly, the Curse-induced grate in his voice sending a shiver down Elayra’s spine.
	In little more than the span of a blink, Drust attacked.
	He leaned back from the dagger’s point and took a single swift sideways stride away from Ghent, putting more space between them. He straightened his trapped arm as he moved, letting it slide between Ghent’s pathetic hold. He shoved Elayra aside to the ground, shifted his weight onto his left leg, and struck out with a powerful side-kick aimed at Ghent’s torso.