"The probability is zero..."
Hearing this, Zartwin paused slightly as he sped through the air. He had absolutely no idea what the other man's cryptic remark meant.
But he did not stop attacking. Once he entered his ideal attack range, the spirituality within his body began to surge.
In an instant, the already cold, damp air plummeted in temperature. Countless sharp ice crystals condensed around Zartwin in dense clusters.
The next moment, the ice crystals howled toward Lorne, who stood where he was, like a torrential downpour.
Faced with an attack dense enough to riddle an ordinary person with holes, Lorne simply stood there. He neither dodged nor moved, and did not even adopt a defensive stance.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
Yet, to Zartwin's astonishment, his Ice Storm missed!
The crystals flew past Lorne, practically brushing his clothes, hair, and cheeks, yet not a single one actually hit him. Every crystal sailed past Lorne and drove hard into the brick wall and muddy ground behind him.
"What?!"
Zartwin reeled inwardly in midair.
They really missed! Impossible!
He had chosen to use this move at this distance precisely because he was certain he could injure his opponent and even cut off every route of evasion.
How could every single shot miss?!
Besides, this was an area attack! There was no reason it couldn't even graze someone who just stood there like an idiot without dodging.
This defied all common sense!
"Question: what is the probability that your next attack will hurt me?"
Looking at Zartwin's grave, bewildered expression, Lorne smiled calmly again. He raised his right hand and snapped his fingers with a crisp click.
"The answer is... zero."
A powerful sense of unease rose in Zartwin's heart. He swiftly retreated, putting distance between them.
Immediately afterward, dark, chilling auras brimming with