Most of the average spirits that slip through Law finds easy enough to handle. Four, five, then a sixth are dismembered and rendered harmless as he covers Rosinante, who handles dispatching any he can that get within range of the shotgun (before it's later destroyed, anyway).
Above, he senses movement and looks up to trace his eyes to where he felt that presence - and there he sees it, blocking out starlight where it filters through the tops of the trees. Lantern light reflects off its papery, butterfly-like wings; only he suddenly realizes that the swirls and spots aren't veins or scales but the twisted expressions of laughing faces. The spirit flies on hand-crafted wings of human facial skin sewn together and molded into those jovial expressions.
It dives, suddenly, and from those many mouths comes a crystalline haze. Escape seems most prudent - this is an enemy that will require more range to fight well. Law quickly moves himself and Rosinante away from it, but the timing isn't perfect. He inhales a few of those tiny shards, and as Rosinante swaps to his pistol to fire, Law feels a sickening lurch of movement inside him, then a blinding white-hot pain.
No stranger to self-surgery, Law locates the source of the injury while Rosinante fires at the hideous butterfly, and sinks to his knees, jaw clenched, as he carves it out of himself. Something pink and grublike pops into his hand, which is immediately dispatched.
The internal lung injuries might take a while to recover from - Law will be short of breath for a couple weeks at least, and will occasionally cough up blood during that period. If he doesn't rest up it will get worse before it gets better, but eventually it will indeed get better.
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Above, he senses movement and looks up to trace his eyes to where he felt that presence - and there he sees it, blocking out starlight where it filters through the tops of the trees. Lantern light reflects off its papery, butterfly-like wings; only he suddenly realizes that the swirls and spots aren't veins or scales but the twisted expressions of laughing faces. The spirit flies on hand-crafted wings of human facial skin sewn together and molded into those jovial expressions.
It dives, suddenly, and from those many mouths comes a crystalline haze. Escape seems most prudent - this is an enemy that will require more range to fight well. Law quickly moves himself and Rosinante away from it, but the timing isn't perfect. He inhales a few of those tiny shards, and as Rosinante swaps to his pistol to fire, Law feels a sickening lurch of movement inside him, then a blinding white-hot pain.
No stranger to self-surgery, Law locates the source of the injury while Rosinante fires at the hideous butterfly, and sinks to his knees, jaw clenched, as he carves it out of himself. Something pink and grublike pops into his hand, which is immediately dispatched.
The internal lung injuries might take a while to recover from - Law will be short of breath for a couple weeks at least, and will occasionally cough up blood during that period. If he doesn't rest up it will get worse before it gets better, but eventually it will indeed get better.