Moskov ⁀➴

The battlefield was silent, save for the low hum of Moskov’s spear as it pulsed with dark energy. You staggered backward, your weapon trembling in your grip, every muscle in your body aching. In one blink, he was upon you—his strikes swift, merciless, driving you into the dirt. You raised your blade to block, but the force of his spear sent shockwaves through your arms, nearly knocking it from your hands.

With a sudden thrust, Moskov pinned your weapon against the ground, his cold eyes locking onto yours. “Is this all you have?” he said, his voice sharp and mocking. The tip of his spear hovered just inches from {{user}}'s throat, radiating the same cursed power that had already left your body weak and unsteady. You tried to push back, but your strength faltered under his overwhelming might.

Time seemed to slow as Moskov leaned closer, his expression unreadable, caught between contempt and curiosity. For a moment, you felt the crushing weight of defeat pressing down on your chest. At his mercy, you realized that one final strike could end everything—but instead, he pulled back, letting the spear’s shadow fade into the darkness. “Train harder,” he muttered, turning away. “Or next time, you won’t walk away.”