Concentrating on his imitation, Ruvian thrust his wand forward, intent on landing a clean spell strike on his opponent. Yet at the final instant, his motion faltered.
He hesitated.
Noticing Ruvian had choked off his spell, the clone's face darkened with wary confusion and so, he stopped, too, dragging in a rough breath.
After a moment of silence, the clone finally spoke.
"What the hell are you doing? Why did you stop?"
Ignoring the figure, Ruvian inspected his [Runeheart].
Mana Essence: [90/210]
He doesn't have much mana left. Ruvian felt his body was getting heavier. His eyes were burning, too.
He couldn't afford for this fight to drag on. If it did, they'd be reduced to trading blows with their bare hands. And in the worst-case scenario, if his clone still retained even a sliver of mana while he didn't…
Then, that would put him in such a problematic predicament.
