Boothill got up from the ground, eyes burning with sothing between fury and exhilaration. He cracked his knuckles, the air around him vibrating as his rifle shimred again, twisting into a sleek, jet-black revolver with glowing red etchings. "Ya damn screwed up, boy," he growled, rolling his shoulders.
Kevin didn’t back down. His golden aura flared hotter, the ground beneath him darkening from the heat. "Oh yeah? Then co prove it."
Boothill obliged. In a blink, he was gone—a blur of motion too fast to track. March barely had ti to register what happened before Kevin blocked the first strike. Boothill’s fist, reinforced by the force of his strange, shifting weapon, clashed against Kevin’s flaming arm with a shockwave that sent cracks racing through the dirt.
Kevin retaliated instantly, swinging a blazing kick. Boothill ducked under it, twisting his revolver upward and firing at point-blank range. Kevin tilted his head at the last second, the bullet grazing past his cheek, sizzling against his fiery aura. With a growl, he launched a fiery uppercut, missing by inches as Boothill flipped backward, landing in a crouch.
March couldn’t tear her eyes away. This wasn’t just a gunfight anymore—it was a battle of raw power. The air shimred from the heat of Kevin’s flas, and Boothill’s every movent distorted space slightly, his weapon defying all logic as it morphed from revolver to rifle and back mid-swing.
They clashed again.
Kevin hurled a blazing punch. Boothill caught his wrist, using the montum to spin and slam Kevin into the ground. The impact kicked up a cloud of dust. Before Boothill could press his advantage, Kevin twisted, fire erupting from his feet as he propelled himself back up, launching a flaming elbow into Boothill’s ribs.
Boothill grunted, staggering back, but his smirk never wavered. "That all ya got?"
Kevin grinned, flicking his wrist as flas coiled around his fingers. "Not even close."
The next second, he surged forward, flas coalescing into a massive arc as he swung both fists downward. Boothill fired mid-air, his bullets twisting unnaturally, curving around Kevin’s strikes. Kevin snarled, weaving between them, but Boothill was already moving, using the distraction to sidestep and land a brutal kick to Kevin’s ribs.
Kevin tumbled across the dirt, coughing, but pushed himself up with a wild grin. "Damn. You’re actually good."
Boothill cracked his neck. "And you’re actually still standin’." He holstered his revolver, flexing his fingers as the weapon shifted again—this ti into sothing longer, thinner—a blade forged from the sa eerie, shifting tal. "Guess I gotta get serious."
March’s breath caught. "That wasn’t serious?!"
Kevin swiped blood from his lip, eyes glowing with golden fire. "Alright then, cowboy," he said, fire spiraling around him. "Let’s go another round."
With a thunderous step, they charged at each other once more, the air splitting with the force of their collision.
Boothill moved with deadly precision, his blade singing through the air as he swung in a flurry of strikes. Kevin barely managed to dodge, each missed cut leaving shimring afterimages in the air. The heat around him intensified, warping the space between them. Boothill’s smirk deepened. "Feelin’ the pressure yet?"
Kevin ducked under a horizontal slash, countering with a flaming uppercut. Boothill pivoted, twisting mid-air and slashing downward, forcing Kevin to backpedal. Their movents were so fast March could barely follow—just bursts of golden fire and glints of crimson steel clashing with deafening force.
Boothill pressed forward, his blade shifting into a long whip-like chain, snapping through the air with the force of a cannon. Kevin brought up both arms, summoning a wall of fire to block it, but the weapon coiled around his wrist, pulling him forward.
Boothill wrenched him in, spinning and slamming an elbow into Kevin’s ribs, sending him skidding through the dirt. "C’mon now, boy, ya had all that fire—where’s it gone?"
Kevin gritted his teeth, gripping the chain. His flas surged, racing along the tal and engulfing it in golden light. With a powerful yank, he pulled Boothill toward him, twisting into a fiery roundhouse kick that sent the gunslinger flying. Boothill twisted midair, landing on his feet, dragging the burning chain behind him.
March gasped as Kevin rocketed forward, flas bursting from his feet like boosters. He and Boothill clashed again, fists and steel eting in a dazzling exchange of sparks and embers. Kevin threw a fiery punch—Boothill t it with the flat of his blade, the impact splitting the earth beneath them.
They separated, breathing heavily. Boothill wiped his mouth, grinning. "Now that’s more like it."
Kevin exhaled, flas curling off his shoulders. "Don’t get too comfortable, cowboy. We’re just gettin’ started."
Boothill wiped a sar of blood from his mouth, eyes burning with sothing between fury and exhilaration. He cracked his knuckles, the air around him vibrating as his rifle shimred again, twisting into a sleek, jet-black revolver with glowing red etchings. "Ya damn screwed up, boy," he growled, rolling his shoulders.
Kevin didn’t back down. His golden aura flared hotter, the ground beneath him darkening from the heat. "Oh yeah? Then co prove it."
Boothill obliged. In a blink, he was gone—a blur of motion too fast to track. March barely had ti to register what happened before Kevin blocked the first strike. Boothill’s fist, reinforced by the force of his strange, shifting weapon, clashed against Kevin’s flaming arm with a shockwave that sent cracks racing through the dirt.
Kevin retaliated instantly, swinging a blazing kick. Boothill ducked under it, twisting his revolver upward and firing at point-blank range. Kevin tilted his head at the last second, the bullet grazing past his cheek, sizzling against his fiery aura. With a growl, he launched a fiery uppercut, missing by inches as Boothill flipped backward, landing in a crouch.
March couldn’t tear her eyes away. This wasn’t just a gunfight anymore—it was a battle of raw power. The air shimred from the heat of Kevin’s flas, and Boothill’s every movent distorted space slightly, his weapon defying all logic as it morphed from revolver to rifle and back mid-swing.
They clashed again.
Kevin hurled a blazing punch. Boothill caught his wrist, using the montum to spin and slam Kevin into the ground. The impact kicked up a cloud of dust. Before Boothill could press his advantage, Kevin twisted, fire erupting from his feet as he propelled himself back up, launching a flaming elbow into Boothill’s ribs.
Boothill grunted, staggering back, but his smirk never wavered. "That all ya got?"
Kevin grinned, flicking his wrist as flas coiled around his fingers. "Not even close."
The next second, he surged forward, flas coalescing into a massive arc as he swung both fists downward. Boothill fired mid-air, his bullets twisting unnaturally, curving around Kevin’s strikes. Kevin snarled, weaving between them, but Boothill was already moving, using the distraction to sidestep and land a brutal kick to Kevin’s ribs.
Kevin tumbled across the dirt, coughing, but pushed himself up with a wild grin. "Damn. You’re actually good."
Boothill cracked his neck. "And you’re actually still standin’." He holstered his revolver, flexing his fingers as the weapon shifted again—this ti into sothing longer, thinner—a blade forged from the sa eerie, shifting tal. "Guess I gotta get serious."
March’s breath caught. "That wasn’t serious?!"
Kevin swiped blood from his lip, eyes glowing with golden fire. "Alright then, cowboy," he said, fire spiraling around him. "Let’s go another round."
With a thunderous step, they charged at each other once more, the air splitting with the force of their collision.
Boothill moved with deadly precision, his blade singing through the air as he swung in a flurry of strikes. Kevin barely managed to dodge, each missed cut leaving shimring afterimages in the air. The heat around him intensified, warping the space between them. Boothill’s smirk deepened. "Feelin’ the pressure yet?"
Kevin ducked under a horizontal slash, countering with a flaming uppercut. Boothill pivoted, twisting mid-air and slashing downward, forcing Kevin to backpedal. Their movents were so fast March could barely follow—just bursts of golden fire and glints of crimson steel clashing with deafening force.
Boothill pressed forward, his blade shifting into a long whip-like chain, snapping through the air with the force of a cannon. Kevin brought up both arms, summoning a wall of fire to block it, but the weapon coiled around his wrist, pulling him forward.
Boothill wrenched him in, spinning and slamming an elbow into Kevin’s ribs, sending him skidding through the dirt. "C’mon now, boy, ya had all that fire—where’s it gone?"
Kevin gritted his teeth, gripping the chain. His flas surged, racing along the tal and engulfing it in golden light. With a powerful yank, he pulled Boothill toward him, twisting into a fiery roundhouse kick that sent the gunslinger flying. Boothill twisted midair, landing on his feet, dragging the burning chain behind him.
March gasped as Kevin rocketed forward, flas bursting from his feet like boosters. He and Boothill clashed again, fists and steel eting in a dazzling exchange of sparks and embers. Kevin threw a fiery punch—Boothill t it with the flat of his blade, the impact splitting the earth beneath them.
Boothill suddenly twisted, his weapon morphing back into a revolver in the blink of an eye. He fired—Kevin dodged just in ti, but the bullet curved again, grazing his arm. Kevin hissed in pain but didn’t stop, forcing Boothill back with a relentless barrage of strikes.
Boothill pivoted sharply, jabbing the barrel of his gun into Kevin’s stomach and pulling the trigger. The blast sent Kevin flying, tumbling through the dirt before he flipped mid-air and landed on his feet, flas roaring brighter in defiance.
Kevin wiped his mouth, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, alright. That one hurt."
Boothill cocked his revolver with a smirk. "Good."
Kevin suddenly surged forward again, feinting left before vanishing in a burst of fire. Boothill spun, trying to track him, but Kevin reappeared behind him, already mid-swing. Boothill barely managed to duck as a wave of fire singed his coat, retaliating with a brutal backhand that sent Kevin staggering.
They clashed once more, neither willing to back down. March could barely breathe as she watched—this was no longer a simple fight. This was a war of endurance, strength, and sheer willpower.
Kevin slamd a flaming fist into Boothill’s gut, sending him skidding back. Boothill spat blood onto the dirt but grinned, twirling his gun before it shifted into a long-barreled rifle once more.
"One last round, boy," Boothill called, taking aim. "Let’s finish this proper."
Kevin wiped his brow, golden fire swirling around him. "You read my mind."
March held her breath as the two combatants prepared for one final, decisive clash.
"I need to help...Kevin!"
March readied her bow as she began to charge it up in anticipation for the final clash!
Reviews
All reviews (0)