Blood was the least of concerns for a necromancer. Ianthe did take the opportunity to look over Percy's torso once it was bared to her. There was wiry muscle underneath his clothes that added an interesting layer to him. He had the air of a privileged asshole - she could smell her own kind - but the past he alluded to had caught her attention.

Something glittered in Ianthe's eyes as Percy readied himself, something that spoke of anticipation. The pain that would come from this was worth it. She could turn her pain receptors off, but why would she?

The axe but into her chest, splitting skin and muscle with a spray of blood. Bone cracked and jagged edges pierced into her lungs. She gave a cry of pain and stumbled to the side so the axe head would rip clear off her on the follow through. She did not fall, even as her chest was ruined by the axe, her breathing that sucking sound that accompanied a collapsed lung. It hurt... it hurt so much. Fuck that was hot and she almost blacked out.

Doubling over, she braced herself on her thighs as regeneration started knitting her body back together. Thanergy surged through her body as blood painted the ground. It took about a minute for her lung to repair itself.