Magnus did not blink.
He tracked the trajectory with his eyes, though in truth he barely saw it. The projectile moved faster than sound, approximately three hundred and fifty meters per second. Even a six-star rank warrior like him found it difficult to perceive more than a blur.
He noted that carefully.
If he struggled to see it clearly, then one-star and two-star opponents would never react in time.
*Bang* *Bang*
Within two seconds, the remaining two pots exploded in succession. Kiara adjusted aim between shots with fluid economy, recoil controlled, wrists firm. The cadence was crisp, mechanical, and efficient.
Magnus nodded faintly. "Next."
She switched weapons.
The revolver felt different in her palm. Heavier in rotation, distinct in balance. As soldiers replaced the shattered pots with fresh ones, she walked forward until she stood twenty meters away. The distance was closer, but the weapon's effective range demanded it.
She did not overthink this time.
Three breaths.
