Mikhail pointed his gun toward Alistair with a casual stance, despite the tension crackling in the air. A smirk tugged at his lips as he tilted his head slightly.
"You really don't want to talk this out instead?"
Alistair didn't respond. He was already moving, surging forward with explosive speed, his massive claymore cleaving through the air with deadly precision.
Mikhail scoffed, stepping back just as he squeezed the trigger.
"Too slow, asshole!"
BAM!
The shot rang out, and with it, a streak of compressed energy burst from the barrel. The magic-infused bullet cut through the air, racing toward its target in a blink. Alistair reacted instantly, bringing his claymore up in a sharp, practiced motion. Steel met energy with a resounding crack, the force of impact sending a pulse through the battlefield.
