John threw up his sword and immediately a strange symbol appeared. It resembled an uppercase F but it was angled upwards. The collision between that arc fist and powerful protection rune was devastating. A shockwave knocked John back and he barely kept his footing. He eyed the man hard. An aura surrounded him. One not of Light. John grinned. That's where this impregnable defense came from. "Lig mo sreabhadh solais. Múnla sé isteach ar arm. Beidh duine none cumhachtach sin seasamh." He held his sword in front of him as it grew brighter and brighter. It soon became blinding and he spoke one word that unleashed hell. "Scaoileadh" The light grew until it launched forward. This spell was designed to destroy and nothing else. But the cost- John immediately felt sick. He fell to his knees and coughed up blood. His insides felt like they had been frozen and heated up in a microwave. Blood dripped from his teeth as he shakily rose.