Page 2802

~~((Thanksgiving Special - page 18 of 30))~~
That was useful information. He traced the positions of the arm and wing with the Scarf and located where the head should been below the iron. By now, the neck might've finished regenerating, or it might've been in even worse condition after that attack. There was no way to tell while it was covered.

If he wanted to decapitate the Man of Crows, he'd have to remove the molten iron first. He needed a better look, and he didn't want the iron to dampen the force of the blow, either.

But that would obviously expose him to danger, too.

No time to think about it. They were falling. That ground was coming up fast.

He annihilated the molten coating.

In that moment, he had a full view of the Man of Crows' smote and sundered body. It was in pieces and still trying to regenerate, but the head, neck, and most of the torso were intact. The limbs looked like they'd exploded out of their sockets.

And the guy saw Hector there, approaching from above. They locked gazes.

That was certain death in the man's eyes. Perhaps he saw the same thing in Hector's.

Hector had an orbiting blade already prepared. It didn't need to be big to sever the neck, but it was. Wide and flat, the size of dinner table. Better to overdo it than under.

He loosed it.

Straight and true, it flew--thanks again to the Scarf, most likely.

And it cleaved the Man's neck from his shoulders. Blood soared amidst the charred flesh and scattered feathers.

It still wasn't over, though. Hector could sense the crows around him. Three separate flocks, all twitching at once, all suddenly converging toward him.

Hector knew at once. So long as that head was unrestrained, those birds would probably remain within his control.

Finishing this meant doing something about that.