The mage stood his ground as he just watched. He could try to do something. But it would be pointless. That man right there was a threat beyond his capabilities.
After some time, the ball descended.
The ball of pure darkness with the demon and the psychic in it lowered to the ground. A wing pierced through it. It cracked in half and fell apart.
The demon threw the psychic aside like a ragdoll. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes in a calming manner.
Sensing the presence of another, he turned to the side to find the mage standing there, unmoving. The man was clearly at his wits end.
Power was not an option. Outsmarting the demon was definitely not an option too. Truce, who was he kidding. This wasn't a negotiation, it was a tournament of life and death.
The mage smiled and released a chuckled as he stabbed his balde into the ground. The demon also stabbed his balde into the ground as he just looked at the man.
