Marshal Stone stopped where he was and did not press the advantage. Instead, he slowly worked the tendons and bones of his wrist. Light moved over his dark-gold skin, and the aura of his flesh remained steady, whole, and undamaged.
His gaze swept over Jared with open contempt, his tone packed with scorn. "That's all you've got? With that pitiful bit of skill, you dared come challenge the dignity of the celestials and force your way into Northern Abyss Gaol? Ridiculous!"
***
While Jared and Marshal Stone clashed head-on in a bloody battle of fists and sword, on the other side of the Ancient Battlefield, Gwendolyn's deadly contest with Marshal Grey had already erupted in full.
Killing intent hid beneath every step, and each move carried a danger that could not be taken lightly. All his life, Marshal Grey had never fought by closing in and trading blows. He did not collide with brute force head-on. That was a battle instinct carved into his bones. He looked down on crossing blades with an enemy directly.
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