Boom—!!
Kabooom—!!
Clang, Clang, Clang—!!
After a few minutes of struggle, even to the mundane people, it has become obvious that the Fallen Angel was losing ground.
Each time their blades clashed, Lucas was pushed back slightly more than the last. Nero's relentless attacks showed no sign of ending.
His blade fell on the young Morningstar like a hurricane of boulders raining down on him.
Lucas was sure that if his spear was anything short of Legendary rank, it would've shattered like glass by now.
He inwardly thanked his master for providing him with the Bringer Of Lost Flames, but it wouldn't ensure victory in this match.
The whole Arena was plunged into pin-drop silence. The audience sat at the edge of their seats, staring at the half-ruined concrete field with anticipation.
Everyone looked at the ongoing match with their mouths hanging open and eyes on the verge of popping out of their sockets.
