Thinking of this, the sword in his hand became even swifter. The leaves on the trees at the side all fell down one after another. They were pierced by the sharp blade and fell to the ground in a mess.
'Bang—'
A sharp collision sound was heard. In the blink of an eye, Fujiwara had already put away his sword.
Matsuda, who had been waiting by the side for a long time, also heaved a sigh of relief and quickly rushed forward.
"Master!"
The servant who was waiting by the side promptly handed a warm towel to Fujiwara. Fujiwara handed over the sword in his hand before taking it. He simply wiped the sweat off his face while wiping his hands. His gaze was cold and indifferent, there was no emotion to be seen.
"How is it?"
Fujiwara took the coat that Matsuda handed over and simply draped it over his shoulders. He asked indifferently as he walked towards the pergola at the side.
