He didn't want to move. Felt like he couldn't. What are you supposed to do after something like that? Say after something like that. It felt like his armour was made of woven lead. It felt like no effort, however strong, would make him move. Every part of him hurt. Every joint, every muscle, every inch of skin. Like his body trying to exact some kind of revenge, some kind of punishment. He wanted to lie down in a tarry pool of misery and wait to die.
but klein asked
Kirito stood. His body screamed at him, the bruises of Jólnir's mighty backhand smash crying out for consideration, but he ignored it all. He scooped up his swords and hacked at the air, two backhand slices that traced an X before him and drove the pain and fatigue away.