Lugh's vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges, but he still had options. His fingers brushed against the tarnished silver ring in his pocket, its effect unknown.
He could also command the dagger, Dain, telepathically, yet he was certain his opponent would anticipate that. No, he needed something unexpected.
His grip tightened on the unseen dagger in his other hand, a blade he had never named, but one whose terrifying properties he knew well.
It ignored all defenses, treating steel and stone like paper. More importantly, it could strike immaterial targets, piercing through illusions and phasing tricks alike.
A cold resolve settled over him. It didn't matter if she could phase or not, this was checkmate.
Summoning the last of his strength, Lugh drove the dagger between his ribs, aiming for the heart.
His strike was true. And yet, something was wrong.
His hand connected, that much was certain. He had struck her. But there was no resistance, no wound, no blood.
