Lieutenant Dante glanced back, catching the tail end of Northern's assault, and his grip tightened on his sword, frustration gnawing at him.
He had thought himself to be the strongest amongst them. Trying to understand the unreasonable leap in Northern's strength in just the short time since he'd left him left his head throbbing with pain.
He couldn't even confidently vouch for his victory should he go all out against the kid.
Even though he wanted to be stubborn about it, concluding that he might possibly defeat Northern, but he knew the cost would be so great that he would become useless as a Paragon in the future.
That is, if he didn't die moments after the confrontation.
With such a great destiny standing before him, why should he go ahead and ruin his life by poking a beehive that would do just fine without disturbance?
