Aᴋᴇʟᴇʏᴜs

With his attack hitting its mark, he'd already set his next attack into motion. He'd rely on the eagerness of consistent pressure, an easily recognized flaw. His free hand would push the militant king back onto his feet as he approached, Francis would shift back. His overarching

With his hands free, he would display a different skill set entirely. Index finger extended toward the sky, his finger would paint a sigil that cast a frosted mist. As he began his approach, Francis would fire his weapon. A pentad firing of ethereal ice crystal aimed to

❝A soldier with no purpose is a dog with no fangs. And a soldier who is constantly rambling on with what they "feel" is a dog with no leash. You'll only bring ruin upon yourself if you continue down this path, being a Dark Lord. You're too small a fish to even swim in