The hatchet left Amon's left hand like a streak of black shadow.
A dark line formed in the direction of Aziz.
It spun through the air, its edge coated in darkness, aimed straight at Aziz's neck. The timing was perfect. The mana bullet had just passed by Aziz's face, forcing his attention for a split second.
But that split second was still not enough.
Aziz's eyes flickered. He leaned his head back slightly.
Clang!
The hatchet barely missed his throat, slicing through a few strands of his hair instead. It flew past him and slammed into a tree behind with a deep thud, burying itself halfway into the trunk.
Aziz slowly straightened his posture. He touched his hair, then looked at his fingers. A few strands had been cut.
His smile faded.
"…Interesting," he muttered.
Amon didn't waste the moment. He dashed forward, shadow and mana wrapping around his legs, boosting his speed. He grabbed his sword with both hands and swung downward with all his strength.
