Raising his spear to meet the attack, the King of Mycenae was worthy of his past renown.
The power derived from divine blood resonated with the surrounding bloodlines, and mighty strength coursed through the spear's tip.
Clang—
Two forces, unmatched in the mortal realm, clashed in an instant, forcing Achilles to halt briefly.
"Not bad, although you borrowed external power, you have the qualifications to exchange a few moves with me."
"Unfortunately, today I have come not to spar, but to make a name for myself."
Spears intertwined, retreating in mid-air.
Achilles landed on the ground, yet his words baffled Agamemnon.
The newcomer's strength was unexpectedly potent, but positioned at the heart of the army, Agamemnon believed he had the power to fight, even though the enemy stood alone. Once the army encircled him, the opponent would have no escape.
But now, seeing his demeanor, was it possible that he hadn't used his full strength yet?
