Tron stood at the center of the battlefield, his crimson aura swirling around him like a malevolent storm. His eyes glowed a deep, ominous red as he stared down at his fallen opponent. The blade in his hands, still wrapped in that blinding crimson light, pulsed rhythmically, as if resonating with his heartbeat.
Under numerous gazes, Tron walked towards Drune. His crimson eyes were slightly cold as he stared at the Drune, who was completely pale. This person truly had a bit of skill. If it wasn't for the fact that he had adaptive cells, it would have been difficult for him to defeat him today.
"It's your win." Drune wiped the blood from his mouth and he stared complicatedly at Tron. He originally thought that it would be a piece of cake for him to defeat Tron using his strength as a 8th-circle Magus coupled with the power of the Soul Essence that he had ingested. But his expectations were completely off from the final result.
