Kaden surveyed the chaos unraveling before him, his grip tightening on the dagger until his knuckles turned white. Black veins spider-webbed across the back of his hands, pulsing in rhythm with his accelerated heartbeat. The demon blood inside him responded to his tension, coiling like a serpent ready to strike.
Time seemed to slow as he assessed his options. The throwing knives stored in the system inventory gleamed temptingly in the fading light—he had five of them, each perfectly balanced for throwing. But he dismissed that option with a grimace. In this chaos, retrieving them would be suicide. Besides, throwing weapons meant keeping his distance, and distance wasn't what he needed right now. It would have been different if he was able to use the active skills that allows the knives to come back to him, but he can't.