Rhychard sheathed the short swords and drew the Guardian Sword. Jerome hopped out of the Firebird, firing shot after shot at Rhychard. The magic sword deflected each one, sending it safely into the concrete. The driver abandoned the car, which was now blocking the ramp completely, and fired his own 9mm. Okay, this part I didn’t consider. Rhychard kept the sword upright in front of him, its power drawing the bullets to it and sending them off to either side.
The dark elf heard the fighting and returned. However, the Firebird blocked his motorcycle. Yet, he never slowed down. Rhychard stared. The elf was about to crash into the car and didn’t seem to care.
The two humans kept coming for him, preventing him from doing anything but blocking bullets. This wasn’t working out the way he had planned, not that he really had a plan.