"Wake up, sleepyhead. I know you are not dead. Let's dance," the silver warrior taunted.
At the sound of his voice, Ossa's bones slowly converged at one point, his skeletal frame reforming.
"It's really a mutant. Its master must be really powerful," the silver warrior commented, his gaze fixed on Ossa's slowly reforming body.
Half a minute passed, and Ossa's dark green flickering eyes locked onto the silver warrior who stood in the new arena formed for them. Ossa's body completely reformed.
The arena, enclosed by several Arctic blue warriors, was twenty feet by twenty feet, a perfect space for a one-on-one battle.
"Let's dance," the silver warrior pointed his sword at Ossa. Ossa's gaze locked on his, making him feel a bit uncomfortable looking into the soul flames of the skeleton.
The silver warrior quickly blurred from where he stood, realizing that Ossa was not going to make the first move and thus he did.
