"This is my ultimate move—Veiled Mists, the divine escape spell! Orgod, you understand me too well!"
"Is Orgod actually trying to run? Over a clone?! What a joke!"
"I don't know, man… Triple Crown winner pulling a stunt like this? Kinda lame."
...
The livestream chat exploded with skeptical chatter.
Trying to flee before the battle was officially over didn't sit right with players—it wasn't the image of the proud Archmage they admired. For many, this looked like fear in the face of defeat.
"Hell Golem. Don't let him get away."
Usher's tone was cold as his black wings unfurled. In a flash, he was within a hundred meters of Orson.
The twin mirror clones moved in perfect sync, forming a triangular pincer—cutting off all escape angles.
"Run? Why would I run?"
A calm voice echoed from within the mist.
"I've already used my strongest move. You'd better stay sharp."
"Your strongest move... is an E-rank skill?"
Usher's eyes narrowed.
