Marcus played the defensive as the figure charged first, twin daggers glead once more as it lunged. Their polished, shadow-forged edges shimred with an eerie gleam, catching the flicker of fla still lingering in the air.
Danger signals flared on Marcus' left and right kidneys, his instincts already preparing him for where the attacks were aid—precise, surgical strikes ant to cripple. Old reflexes surged like a tide, muscle mory kicking in before conscious thought.
"Too bad, that won't work!"
Marcus chuckled as he weaved left and right to each dagger respectively, his movents smooth but deliberate. He had trained with Luke before, and worked with him through countless contracts. This wasn't a challenge—it was familiar.
"Did the system really think you'll be an issue?"
He spat the words with a sneer as he counter-attacked, delivering jab after jab, his fists glowing faintly with heat as they blurred through the air, giving the figure no room to breathe, no chance to retaliate.
Each of Marcus' punches was t by the dagger's shadowy steel. Sparks flared with each clash, brief flashes in the gloom. But each strike had weight—asured, purposeful—and the figure's guard started to slow, falter, the shadows around its limbs thinning ever so slightly.
Each punch made the figure slower and slower the more Marcus pushed on, his rhythm like a drumbeat—steady and suffocating.
"No need for advanced assassin techniques at all!"
He grinned as he quickly quickstepped, fla bursting underfoot. His body now inches away from the figure, the heat of his fire magic radiating in waves, casting flickering shadows against the cold dungeon walls.
"Let's end this."
He casually said as he delivered an uppercut, the flas in his hands flaring with stronger intensity as the blow landed with explosive force. The impact rippled outward in a wave of heat and pressure.
The figure was sent flying backwards, before landing roughly on the ground in a classic superhero landing position, one knee down, its daggers still gripped tightly in both hands, as if defying gravity with sheer will.
"You tanked that, huh...?"
Marcus muttered, narrowing his eyes as he reappeared behind the assassin in an instant with a burst of flas that glided him like a teor, slamming heat and presence behind his opponent. Fighting against another assassin flared Marcus' instinct of life or death, forcing him to tap into his honed reflexes. Every inch of his magic surged—optimized, efficient, lethal.
"Stay down!"
But before the killing blow could land, the assassin twisted, blocking at the last second. Sparks flew violently as the two forces clashed, and the assassin was sent skidding backward, boots grinding across the blackstone floor, leaving scorch trails where friction t fla.
Marcus laughed as the heel of his boots started flaming once more, the familiar roar of fire building beneath him, signalling another blast of his flaming jets.
"It's kinda boring fighting you since you don't talk!"
In a blink of a second he reappeared once more in front of the figure, his jab cracking through the air—but it was blocked by a dagger again, tal groaning under the force.
Is he getting faster...?
Must be imagining it...
But before Marcus could continue his attack, the figure ducked low like a shadow collapsing into itself, then exploded forward—charging like a wolf, feral and relentless—with one dagger still reversed in its grip.
Marcus took a step to the side, instincts screaming, but he wasn't fast enough to leave unscathed. A flash of silver, a sharp sting—blood spilled across his sides in a crimson arc as the dagger grazed him, precise and cruel.
"Shit—!"
The figure twisted mid-lunge, pivoting like liquid shadow and charging again, not giving Marcus ti to recover, to breathe, to think.
"Agghhh! Damn it all!"
"Combustion Rune!"
The flas in his hand suddenly disappeared, extinguished in a swirl of wind. In their place, compressed air crackled to life across his palms, building pressure like a coiled spring ready to detonate.
"Twin Dynamite!"
He shouted, and his palms exploded outward—pure force erupting like twin shockwaves. The concussive blast launched them both in opposite directions, air rippling and stone cracking beneath the sheer kinetic discharge.
Marcus panted, gripping his side as fresh blood continued to pour out, warm and sticky between his fingers. His body wobbled slightly, unsteady. While he was used to this ntally, his current body wasn't. Every nerve scread.
"Seems like I underestimated you... haha."
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