Saleret's operation was like Hell, barely enduring the side effects of pushing the scale forward, the intense red of Ghost Eye seemed ready to spill blood, completely overloaded.
He foresaw Xiao Long evading real attacks with feints, sidestepping and circling to his back.
For everyone, it was an instant, and for him, it was also an instant.
In that fleeting moment before the instant.
The blade hadn't moved, but the cold gleam already pinned down the entire arena's air,
Saleret stepped forward, causing the ground to crack with fine lines, his arm trembled tautly, knuckles turning white, crouching with such pressure that his knee creaked, like a lurking man-eating fierce tiger, pulling the dual blades like bent bows.
With a thunderous unmatched explosion.
As if compressing a full five seconds of motion in a Different Space-Time, it unleashed all at once, the sudden draw splitting the air so forcefully that even the wind dodged to the sides.
