Kosan's eyes flashed.
He opened his mouth.
A torrent of flame poured out.
Michael twisted mid-run, narrowly avoiding it, the heat washing past him like a tidal wave.
That was when he realized it.
This fire was different.
Stronger than before, far stronger.
Even with his aura fully reinforced, even with his entire body and armor wrapped in red energy, this flame was dangerous.
If it hit him directly…
Even armor forged from the strongest metal in the world would begin to melt.
He understood that instantly.
But his sword,
The blade he had claimed deep within a dungeon after clearing it, forged from rare dragon scale,
That would endure.
Kosan didn't stop.
He raised both hands.
Compressed air and flame twisted together, firing forward in violent bursts.
Michael raised his sword and slashed.
One strike.
Two.
Three.
He cut through the incoming flames again and again, carving a path as he forced his way forward, closing the distance step by step.
