Michael's spear returned to his hand almost at once.
This time, neither side rushed blindly. For half a second, both Michaels simply stared at each other.
Then black flames erupted around both spears.
The fire wasn't ordinary. It clung tightly to the shaft and spearhead, moving like liquid darkness rather than flame. That was one of the functions of the Venomflare Lance. The black fire itself was already destructive, but its true annoyance came from how difficult it was to remove once it touched something.
Unless one had a suitable means of cleansing it, putting the flame out through brute force was troublesome.
Michael tightened his grip and the two dashed at each other again.
CLANG!
Black fire exploded outward as both spears collided. With the two of them coating their bodies with mana as a protective layer, this bit of unintentional flame was harmless to them.
Michael twisted his spear at once and stabbed toward the copy's chest.
