Clack, clack.
In the long, dim corridor, a sharp metallic scraping suddenly rang out. Sifa saw a nearby decorative suit of knight's armor stir as though flesh and blood had filled it. Two fiery red lights shone through the slits in its metal visor, and it stepped into the middle of the corridor.
"Looks like Mrs. Christie has noticed me."
Sifa showed no trace of panic. He was no longer the rookie who had only just entered the mystical world. When the suit of armor suddenly strode forward, closed the distance, and raised its broadsword for a heavy downward slash, Sifa nimbly retreated and pointed a finger at it.
An orange-red stream of fire shot from his fingertip, instantly striking the armor and bursting into flames.
The armor's chest merely glowed red from the heat. It broke through the flames without the slightest difficulty and continued advancing on Sifa.
Sifa raised both hands, pressed his index and middle fingers together, and held his thumbs upright, forming finger guns.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh-
Small bursts of flame shot from Sifa's fingertips at an extremely high rate, like machine-gun fire, raining down on the armor's chest, helmet, and other parts.
A sound like beans popping in a hot pan filled the corridor. Under the bombardment of Sifa's Fire Finger Gun, the armor shook and swayed, its metal plates glowing red and denting.
Finally, its helmet was blasted off, revealing that the armor was empty inside.
Yet a round of Fire Finger Gun bombardment did nothing to dampen the armor's enthusiasm for getting "close" to Sifa. It strode forward again, sweeping its broadsword toward his waist.
Sifa nimbly leaped up, even stepping on its broadsword to propel himself into a flip over the armor.
As he passed overhead, he dropped a compressed, blazing-white fireball