Auric held his own against the many bandits, his flaming sword whirling as he danced with death. He cut precisely, strategically, never missing a step. The bandits wondered how in the world they were not hitting this man. One of the surviving archers loosed an arrow at Auric and time started to slow down for him. He focused on the oncoming arrow, reached a hand out and caught it in one fluid motion. The archer was dumbfounded and Auric quickly dispatched him with a swift slice to the head, cleaving and burning the man in two. He swirved around to attack the next bandit who thought he'd get lucky, elbowing the man in the stomach and finally, slicing upwards. One thought went through the red head's mind as he thought. Cut. The millenia old lesson coursed through his head, the law of a Spellblade. "Remember the primary edict, son. It means only one thing, and everything: cut. Once committed to fight, cut. Everything else is secondary. Cut. That is your duty, your purpose, your hunger. There is no rule more important, no commitment that overides that one. Cut. Cut from the void, not from bewilderment. Cut the enemy as quickly and directly as possible. Cut with certainty. Cut decisively, resolutely. Cut into his strength. Flow through the gaps in his guard. Cut him. Cut him down utterly. Don't allow him a breath. Crush him. Cut him without mercy to the depths of his spirit. It is the balance to life: death. It is the dance with death. It is the law a Spellblade lives by or he dies." He recited the whole thing over and over mentally as he fought.