Both of their eyes bore boorishly into each other's soul.
Sura stood there, blank and unreadable, his gaze drenched with serenity. His eyes were a midnight shade of blue and were fixated on Northern.
Northern also responded with the same level of serenity, only filled with more coldness.
They seemed like vicious snakes, calmly assessing each other and could lunge at each other at any moment.
Sura raised his head a little bit. Northern was still smiling solemnly at him, waiting for what the man was going to do.
Finally, Sura's voice resounded:
"You ungrateful cunt. After I taught you how to swing a sword, you shall swing it against me?"
Northern's brows furrowed a little bit. Sura's statement made him uncomfortable.
Because he actually owed his growth greatly to the voice and had mentally prepared himself to make the voice his master.
