Before Auron Eastwind could react, a powerful hand was already tightly clenching his throat.
In this moment, John wasn't holding back as he did in the arena.
With his full power unleashed, the presence he radiated was oppressive and filled with despair.
Auron Eastwind struggled fiercely, his hands gripping John's wrists, desperate to break free.
However, John's grip was unyielding, akin to iron pincers.
Auron Eastwind's refined face gradually reddened from the lack of oxygen.
John stared at him coldly, his voice chilling. "I'm not sure who gave you the audacity to challenge me here, but considering you're one of the heirs to the Northern Myst Empire, I'd hope you're not this foolish..."
"Thus, I'm giving you a chance to explain."
John released his grip.
Auron Eastwind quickly retreated a few steps, massaging his throat while coughing strenuously.
