Third Person's POV
"You die with me, bastard," he hissed.
Without warning, a serrated black dagger appeared in his left hand.
In an instant, dark flames started crawling along the jagged edge of the blade and started burning like cursed oil.
Using his surprise element, or so he thought, Erik twisted his body and slashed upwards toward Ethan's neck in a wild, desperate arc.
The strike was vicious and well-timed, but his grin faded the moment his eyes met Ethan's.
In them, he found no fear, no shock, and no panic but only a glacial stillness.
In the next instant, Ethan ducked with eerie precision as the cursed blade cut nothing but air and passed harmlessly through the space where his throat had been just a breath ago.
Before Erik could even adjust or process what had happened, Ethan rose with a fluid but brutal grace.
