CH 3 — The Hopeful Skeptic

It was a beautiful night to die, but Vallens wasn’t ready to give up the fight. Rapid bursts of flame and lightning lit the dark sky, uprooting trees and shrubs. Specks of dirt and brush threatened to overwhelm ver, only to be repelled by a translucent shield.
Vallens’ opponent, a small man buried beneath cerulean robes and a comically large hat, snarled and commanded his demon to sink its claws into ver familiar.
But unlike the demon with its twisted horns and gigantic physique, Françoise was sleek and nimble. The skeletal figure of a large panther, Françoise neatly evaded the demon, coming down on top of it with claws extended.
There was a crack that tore open the sky and bathed the world in white. The man shrieked, and the crunching of bone and sizzling of flesh brought a smile to Vallens’ face.
“Is that really the best you lot can do?” Ve was not one to boast, but it was amusing to see this worm of a man fail. Just five minutes ago, he was threatening to slaughter Vallens and run off with ver staff and other valuables, only to become the victim himself.
What a joke.