“Is that it?”
As Donald drew a circle in the air, the floating bullets made a one-eighty turn.
“You're a Quattuor Stella Warrior!”
Terrified, Svein attempted to hide behind Hamish, but Donald had already fired the bullets forward with a snap of his fingers. In the blink of an eye, Svein and the other four were peppered by bullets until mush was all that remained of them.
“Mr. Hamish... save me...”
Svein reached out toward Hamish while lying in a pool of blood.
He didn't understand why the latter didn't shield them from the barrage of bullets.
As a Mortal Realm expert, he could've saved us if he wanted to.
“Don't touch me with your filthy hands.”
A silver glint flashed past, and Svein's wrist was severed while a bloody cut appeared on his neck.
Donald's eyes narrowed upon realizing that Hamish's weapon of choice was blades.
Even until his death, Svein never understood why Hamish wanted him dead. Nonetheless, Donald was cognizant that a young genius like Hamish would only view someone like Svein with disdain.
“This is such a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect the piece of trash the Campbell family kicked out to be a Quattuor Stella Warrior.”
Visibly thrilled, Hamish added, “I'm sure you must have made unbelievable sacrifices to get where you are. Just the thought of destroying all your efforts alone is making me tremble in excitement.”
As Hamish pointed his finger at Donald, a semi-circle shield that was formed entirely with blades appeared behind him.
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