Orlin PoV
"Gael!" I yelled, watching as great-gramps hooked his neck. Gael tried to freeze it with his icy aura, but the ice formed slowly and wouldn't last. It was like watching snow land on a warm concrete sidewalk.
Gritting my teeth, I dashed behind great-gramps. But he vanished in a flash before I could even swing my sword.
"Where did he—?" I began to say, but was cut off by a tap to the neck by the crook.
Great-gramps sighed as my aura died down and I slumped to the floor. "You still got a long way to go, young king."
Frustration surged through me as I struggled to regain my footing, but the world around me felt heavy. "You can't just—" I started, but the words caught in my throat. Great-Gramps had always been a formidable opponent, but I wasn't ready to admit defeat.
I glanced over to Gael, who was still on his feet, determination burning in his eyes. "Get up, Orlin! We can still win!" he shouted, channeling more ice mana into his guns.
