"Just you?"
Bertha Marley seemed to have found her strength, her cruel eyes brimming with sarcasm, "Just a useless person who lost their martial power, still wanting to have a duel with me!"
"Isn't it fair to compete with you while you're injured?" Isabella Lindsey tempted her.
Indeed, she'd been stomped by Julian Johnsons.
But Isabella Lindsey also lost her martial power.
If the two were to clash, they'd be starting from the same line.
So.
Bertha Marley staggered to her feet, rubbing her painfully aching stomach and wiping the blood from the corner of her lips, she snarled maliciously, "It's indeed very fair, but I have one condition: no matter if you die or I live, our duel must not involve Julian Johnsons!"
"No problem." Isabella Lindsey curved her lips into a smile.
Next to them, Julian Johnsons stepped aside, leaving a large open space for them.
All eyes and attention flowed towards Isabella Lindsey, cheering her on with clenched fists, "Lindsey, you're the best!"
