He inspected it with an appraising glance before tossing it aside. The weapon clattered to the ground but didn't stay there long. The Sentry raised his hand, and the harpoon sprang back to him, zipping through the air like a loyal predator returning to its master.
"A fine weapon," Threxian said. "But you should've aimed for my head."
The Sentry lunged, closing the distance with surprising speed. He spun the harpoon in his grip, its energy crackling as he swung it toward the King's neck. Threxian ducked, the weapon grazing his shoulder and leaving a faint scorch mark on his armor. The Sentry followed up with a quick thrust aimed at the King's midsection, but Threxian sidestepped, the attack narrowly missing its mark.
"Fast," Threxian remarked, his movements fluid as he evaded a series of strikes. "But not fast enough."
