The tasmanian devil....erm, Flint only had a single thought in his head as he was being thrown around the battle field like a ping pong.
Is this the hardest he can hit?
He had high hopes for Rhett's new form and although he wasn't disappointed, he expected a bit more force from his attacks.
....
Flint swears he's not a masochist.
Tired of being ragdolled around, he decided to end this quickly.
"My turn," he muttered with a grin before dashing towards Rhett again, his golden knight might've pushed him to the next rank, but Flint was a different breed of a monster.
Rhett had guess right, he was still at Elite rank, but unlike normal Elite ranks, Flint was capable of fighting a single rank above his.
This was mostly because, even as a Noble's son, he had grown up pick fights against people stronger than him like some sort of gangster.
He didn't go out of his way to pick fights though, as he had been known for ignoring most insults.... except those aimed at two things.
