Dissapointment

Aelarin's breath came in ragged gasps as he moved back once again after failing to land attack at Michael for the dozen times. His twin daggers still gleaming with violet energy.

He had thrown everything he had at Michael. Every technique, strength, and speed. However, It made no difference in the Archangel's presence.

Michael hadn't moved from his spot.

Aelarin had struck at impossible angles, feinted, unleashed energy slashes meant to cut through the very air itself, yet Michael had repelled each one with effortless ease.

A flick of his hand, a simple step to the side. His countermeasures of Aelarin's attack were neither aggressive nor desperate. They were dismissive.

Aelarin clenched his jaw, frustration boiling inside him. His instincts screamed at him that he can't beat Michael. He already knew that.