It was a true test of his trigger discipline, standing in the lonely, cold mist—unable to see even a few steps in front of him as all he could hear was the distant battle between the other two combatants. Within the environmental spell of everfrost, the environment itself was his enemy. The fear and paranoia of at any moment a lance of ice rising from the frozen soil below him, or the mist shifting into a rain of blades, set into his mind as he held his finger firmly against the trigger.
He couldn't imagine a reason why his opponent was hesitating while holding such a distinct advantage. There was no doubt in his mind that Donatien knew exactly where he was within the cold fog, watching his every movement.
As he released the captive breath within his lungs, it marked his foe's next move as the rumble of rising ice filled his eardrums.
Tristan watched as a massive pillar of ice rose into the air before crashing down towards him.
