Rule Number Two

Adam assessed his wounds, feeling Excalibur's scabbard churn to expel the light magic contaminating his shoulder and eye to regenerate them.

As Ikarion implied, his vaporised left eye would take a while to regenerate—perhaps it would never. But he could feel the tingling cold, soothing water energy roil to mend his arm. Still, he knew regrowing an entire limb, as incredible as the legendary scabbard was, would take time—something he didn't have when Vrashnak's icy blade was ready to separate his head from his torso.

"What last word do you expect from me? Curses? Threats? Congratulations? Meaningless." His eyes narrowed, and a disturbing smile, unfitting to his situation, split his face. "You seem determined. But you have no idea who you're messing with."

Vrashnak chuckled, dismissing his warning with a cruel smirk.