In the blink of an eye, Merlin was there.
His rapier pierced through the enemy's ribs before the man even realized what had happened.
The soldier's breath hitched—his body jerking violently before he collapsed, blood spilling onto the pavement.
Dorian froze, his crimson eyes flickering toward Merlin.
Merlin didn't look at him.
He stepped past the body, his expression cold, unreadable.
"Too slow," he murmured.
Dorian's jaw clenched.
But there was no time to argue.
The third soldier adjusted his trajectory, turning his sights on Seraphina.
She was breathing heavily, her ice magic cracking under the sustained pressure of gunfire.
She had the skill, but not the instinct to kill.
Merlin did.
His free hand flicked up, and suddenly—
The air shimmered.
The gunman's targeting system malfunctioned instantly, his perception warping completely due to Merlin's space affinity.
The man hesitated for a second.
However, that was all Merlin needed.
