Joela's forehead throbbed with pain.
Dastan's scimitar had descended with formidable force. Even with his Diamond Armor momentarily swapped into place, Joela still couldn't withstand the shockwave from the overwhelming power. The title of the 'Glorious Seven Riders' was truly not an empty boast.
Each stroke of Dastan's sword was lethal, showing no regard for the camaraderie they once shared.
Moreover, that mysterious Hunter, just a moment ago, had confirmed Joela's suspicions with his actions. The Sol Family, an ancient lineage of Hunters, stood before him now, using their ancient and peculiar combat techniques to trap the Golden Three Seats of the Alchemy Workshop.
"Senior Joela! I can't hold on much longer!" Hector yelled. His opponent's sudden burst of strength was making him falter. Hector is still too young, Joela thought. He needs more tempering. On a real battlefield, this level of retreat would directly affect the outcome.
