"I hate Amilia," Alistair said. "And every fool mindlessly serving another. But that doesn't mean I allow strangers to interfere."
Taros snorted. "No, I am not a stranger. You are."
"Ironic, dare I say, the one wearing all black."
"Yet I bear no mask."
"Then you planned for a clean kill, no? How is that working out?"
"Seize your spite!"
Chains fluttered forth, slicing the air. They loomed upon Alistair, seeking vital organs, but a pale light blocked their path.
Amilia's hasty reaction created a path, which Alistair dashed through. As his sword raised overhead faint purple energy rushed through his veins, granting him unstoppable power.
The force pushed Taros backward, surging wind stroking his skin. Danger and alarm flashed in his mind. This move could kill him!
He turned a finger and many little chains erupted from its tip.
Metallic lights flashed in Alistair's face but he evaded. His mask shattered.
