Time seemed to freeze, as scorching flames surged from the blazing blade of that silver and ornate spear.
Arsen refused to test whether his helmet could withstand this peculiar fire magic. He switched from offense to defense, angled his war saber downward, and struck the solar disc of the magic gun, deflecting the incoming attack yet again.
With a forceful stomp, the Peacock Knight pushed forward with his left hand, slamming the tail end of his long-handled blade into Leon's descending figure.
The black-armored knight was launched like a cannonball, hurtling through layers of dense forest until—crack!—he collided with a tree trunk, snapping it in half before tumbling heavily to the ground.
Count Arsen leaped high with his war saber in hand, his figure piercing through the canopy before landing with a resounding thud.
"Such sharp gun skills. Had I faced you decades ago, when I was your age, I suspect I might have died at your hands."
