Preshotted

Michael positions himself below the wall the trio were standing on to make it harder for the mage and archer, but it seems that they weren't all that bothered about it... The spearman leaps from the roof, and with a flick of the mage's staff, a small tornado forms underneath him to soften his fall.

"You. You have killed enough of our men, today is your turn!" the spearman shouts as he twirls his weapon and drops into a stance.

Michael tosses his bow and almost empty quiver to the side as he draws his sword, keeping one eye on the other two enemies that'd no doubt be assisting the spearman... "Wow, you've got a lot of guts fighting me three on one... Should I be impressed!?" he taunts, waiting for the spearman to reply so he can blast him with Ether shock.

"With your assassin-like tactics!? Don't make me lau-" "Ether shock!" the spearman is interrupted by Michael shout, causing many threads of ephemeral orange lightning to shoot from his extended finger.

Six threads blast out, one shooting towards the spearman while the rest head for the lifeless corpses nearby. Michael would have targeted the archer and mage, but they were too far out of his range to reliably hit... Plus, his position didn't help the matter.

"Ice Wall!" the mage shouts from above Michael, causing a 7ft wall of solid ice to form in front of the spearman, absorbing attack for him.

The lightning melts a large hole into the wall, mainly due to its composition of both fire and electricity, but it's nowhere near to breaching the sturdy magical structure.

Michael growls at his spell's failure, but has no time to complain as the spearman skillfully leaps over the ice-wall and delivers a price lunging stab towards him.

Michael dodges to the side to evade the strike, the spearman's weapon follows him like a heat-seeking missile, forcing him to block the tip of it with the flat of his blade.

"Fuck, OFF!" he shouts, pushing against the man with his rune enhanced strength and barely managing to overpower him. He forces the spearman back, but as soon as he attempts to cast another Ether shock, an arrow fires from above towards his head.

Michael barely hears it, but manages to lean to the side enough to avoid a fatal injury, instead, taking the arrow to his already injured left shoulder. "Arrgh!" he groans as the projectile punches straight through the limb. It actually penetrates completely through his shoulder, allowing the arrow tip to poke him in the ribs when he lowers his arm.

"This is bad, really fucking bad!" he mentally shouts, wishing that he had access to his Serpent Ward spell... Unfortunately, it was still on cooldown, and could only be used at noon tomorrow.

"Pirhanna Strike!" a shout from above him reminds him of the mage's presence. He leaps to the side, and again has to sidestep to avoid another arrow, all while keeping distance with the spearman to avoid another stab... Fortunately, the man seems to be keeping a distance while the mage fires his spell... Which is actually pretty bad when Michael considers it...

"Hex!" he shouts, transforming the spearman into a chicken and heading for him as the mage's spell pursues him like a sentient puddle with jaws.

"Four, three-" Michael counts as he approaches the chicken, the mage releases his spell to avoid hurting his companion, even while confused at the strange transformation spell he'd used, but this just allows Michael to time his strike perfectly.

"Two, one, STRIKE!" he shouts, swinging his blade at thin air where he expects the spearman to reappear once the hex spell ends. A puff of smoke signals the end of the spell, and a spurt of blood striking the ground next to it confirms that he'd struck his target.

An arrow passes by the smoke, barely skimming Michael's cheek and damaging his cloak and mask. This forces him to back up before he can confirm that the spearman was dead...

Unfortunately, his plan hadn't gone exactly as expected... Once the smoke clears, the spearman kneels on the ground clutching his cheek that had a deep gauge cut into it... It seems that the man had had time to barely avoid Michael's neck strike... What it skill? Planning? Or intuition?

Michael's hood falls backwards due to tear, and his makeshift bandana falls to the ground, revealing his face to his enemies...

"J-just a damned kid!?" the archer exclaims from the rooftop upon seeing his appearance.

"Who cares! Just kill him!" the mage states, knowing that Michael's age was actually a time limit for the D'argent... If Michael grew into the potential he'd displayed today, he'd undoubtedly become one of the most powerful mages on the continent... Not to mention the fact that all the magic he'd cast was wandless!

Michael wipes a stray tear from his face, the arrow in his arm causing immense pain with every movement. He can't remove it either, as he might just bleed out without immediate medical intervention.

Luckily, the spearman was in a similar state, the injury to his face was almost enough to completely cripple his jaw. "Yaou waoww pway fwar tha'" he manages to growl out as blood drips from his wound. The duo eyes each other for a second or two before rushing to clash again.

The spearman's weapon cuts for Michael's leg, but it's just a feint as he pulls back the strike with a spin and thrusts towards his neck instead.

Michael leans backwards far enough to almost impress a gymnast, but has his feet kicked out from under his. The spearmen raises his weapon up to finish him off, but Michael just points a finger at him and shouts, "ETHER SHOCK!"

With them so close, the mage is unable to react in time, allowing the full force of his magic to strike his opponent.

*ZZZZzzzzZZZ!*

Orange lightning bursts from his finger and bores many holes through the spearman, blasting him backwards with his body riddled with fatal injuries. "PRESOT NO! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" the archer screams, beginning to rapidly fire arrows at Michael. They weren't as accurate as before, but their quantity made up for their quality...