What was that feeling... an illusion, a realm, or having confidence in one's strategy, in a blink of an eye, Black Blade realized the chasm in their realms, perhaps he had no chance of winning at all.
"Draw your sword, young man." The one speaking was Gandalf, making a gesture with his hand as if to say 'do proceed'.
At this moment, a cold sweat was already forming on Black Blade's forehead. It wasn't that he was afraid to draw his sword. Damn drawing the sword, where on his body was there any sort of sword? Despite trying to maneuver himself out, he found himself in deeper water. He couldn't find any openings in his opponent. The other's demeanor was too casual, a calm exterior masking an endless mysterious power, making him not daring to hastily approach. The feeling was as if even a single moment of carelessness would result in a total defeat.
