Skyler blinked once, twice, then let out a sigh and raised his arm to cover his eyes.
"Well, maybe not."
His answer must have been acceptable, as the man smirked and sat down beside him.
"Don't be disheartened. Your fundamentals with the scythe are excellent. You know the basics almost instinctively, and that's after only three months of wielding it. I will give you a perfect score for that—generously."
Skyler rolled his eyes beneath his arm.
Perhaps because of his defeated posture, or maybe because the calamity couldn't see his expression, the latter failed to notice the mischievous curl of his lips and the wisp of silver lightning—so weak it couldn't even kill an ant—emerging from his fingertips. Like a snake, the wisp of silver lightning slithered toward the man, ready to deliver a tiny zap.
Skyler's smirk widened, and honestly, it made him look nothing short of devious.
His plan was succeeding. A while ago, he had sworn to hit the man at least once.
