On the battlefield, Ulrif knew the three-minute limit Lex gave was not a joke. If he did not finish off the fight himself, Lex would interfere.
Ulrif, who had been on the defensive up till then, suddenly pinched his right wrist with his left hand. At the same time, the various wounds on his body started vanishing at an imperceptible speed. Strange symbols started appearing all over his right hand. Those words seemed to come alive as they slowly slithered toward the center of his palm. His palm was slowly enveloped by what looked like a black fog. The scene looked strange yet somewhat eerie.
That layer of black fog gradually dispersed. The vines met by the black fog started wilting speedily as if the life was being sucked out of them.
Ulrif slowly stood up straight too and gave Lancelot a spine-chilling smile. "Gigolo of the Army, our fight ends here…"
