The Gnome was edging closer to a full mental collapse. This was not how a proper battle was supposed to unfold.
In a normal fight one side attacked while the other defended or countered. Here the pattern had been shattered from the beginning. Grey simply refused to remain in place. He darted across the battlefield in every direction, appearing beside one endangered human after another, always just in time to spoil a killing blow. No matter how aggressively the Gnome pressed or how many times the puppet lunged, Grey never settled into a direct exchange. The pursuit had become a humiliating farce.
Just as the Gnome began to consider abandoning the chase altogether, Grey finally stopped moving.
"Finally," the Gnome muttered under his breath. "He stopped running."
Whether it could truly be called running no longer mattered. What mattered was that the frustrating figure had at last come to a halt.
"Take this!"
