The distraction is enough. It relieves him of the psychic attention of the last two Nightrenders, dragging him back from the dark place in his head.

Two.

The gauntlets slither back up into his pauldrons, settling back in control. The crisp air of night bites at the re-exposed skin. Reality.

Three.

The Nightrender on his back gets an elbow to the face, emitting a steel growl as it loses its grip and lands, four-legged, on the muddy ground. He looks up to see -

Four.

The second Nightrender, leaping forward towards the mage. No time to think, to wonder why the hell he was there. He follows his first instinct, and acts.

Five.

Raising that massive blade, he brings the sword down to violently split open one more body. Would he be fast enough?