“Fuck, so much for lightning, his swords eat it.” Metz spat, completing the Earth Circle which appeared around him with a four foot diameter. It hardly seemed fair to the Mage, who had just witnessed the only spell he was confident could hit the man be consumed by his sword without a trace. Still, no point getting demoralised just yet, or maybe there was, as his protective spiked rock field broke down around him. Apparently the change to the terrain was set to some indiscernible time frame, and was now breaking down to sand and dust and returning to what it was before. Unfortunate, but it had served its purpose, the rock shards had done some form of damage to his enemy at any rate.

On completing his defensive spell he saw his enemy had manifested some kind of conjured swords, an unfamiliar ability but with an affect Metz had seen used before. He expected the weapons to be launched at him, furthering his problems, but instead the man had to hit one with his own weapon to launch it skyward. Unlike many opponents, Metz perception was not supernatural, but with mana rushing through his body his perception did supersede its normal limits. With that in mind, the drawing of the grenade at his opponent’s side did not go unnoticed, and with such weapons being common in Felenr before the Departure he recognised the threat it posed.

His right hand shot to the pistol at his hip and drew it, levelling it at his enemy. Two spells in quick succession had drained a worrying amount of mana, but he figured he must still be working roughly on half power at the least, it wasn’t time yet to ready another spell but to go on the defensive.