The fire roared around him. The heat warped the air. The flames danced, but Max didn't move. He observed the situation with a calculating gaze.
The guard in front of him tensed, sword raised—ready to attack or defend.
Max smiled. He snapped his fingers. Two figures emerged from the ground.
Bones. Incomplete armor. Empty eye sockets. His new skeleton knights.
The guard barely had time to react when Max leapt forward—and the skeletons moved with him. In unison.
The guard shouted. He swung his sword, and the blade cut clean through one of the skeletons. The impact was precise. The skeleton collapsed instantly, bones scattering.
But the second was already on him. It grabbed the guard's armed arm, stopping it for a brief moment.
The guard slammed the skeleton into the wall. Hard. Violent.
The second skeleton vanished.
But the guard had no time to react. No time to breathe. No time to think.
Max was already there. Right in front of him. The sleep stone glowing before his helmet.
