The Martial Blade God was disappointed.
He felt eager to go to the next battlefield and test the others, but he also felt the inclination to remain where he was. As long as he felt this way, he refused to end the lives of his opponents.
Time seemed to be still for him.
He could walk past all of them and cut them down before they realized it, but he chose not to. Something about this group… pulled him in.
Their attack patterns were simple. Their mastery over the Arcanas was basic, at best, and their level of experience paled in comparison to his by a wide margin—It was simply too wide to consider.
These were mere toddlers.
The Martial Blade God hadn't even used any techniques yet, and he already felt like it would be impossible to converse with children like these. This was the burden he carried as someone who had transcended the bounds of nature.
He could move so fast that time seemed to come to a complete standstill.
