'Alright... now, the biggest problem so far.'
Aestrea gripped the sword tightly.
'Elandor, the Sword Duke...'
His eyes locked onto his figure.
Elandor slowly stepped towards him, holding a regular iron sword in his left hand, while his eyes kept analyzing himself.
And then, in an instant, his figure vanished.
Fwoop!
Aestrea barely had time to blink before Elandor was standing directly before him.
"Huh… seems that you weren't as strong as I thought."
With a casual smirk, Elandor swung his sword—a clean arc from left to right.
The blade whistled through the air.
Aestrea reacted instinctively—his instincts screamed at him—but it was too fast, too sudden.
The sword grazed his ribs, CRACK—a sickening sound as the bones fractured.
"Tch!"
He gritted his teeth, barely managing to stay on his feet. His left hand went to his side, where blood dripped from the wound, but there was no time to recover.
Before Aestrea could even blink, Elandor was already behind him.
