In the vast Cret Memorial Square, only the White Robed Pope and Hesintos remained.
The bitter wind howled, and the snowflakes seemed weightless.
The boundless snow curtain covered the entire square, dyeing the world into a vast expanse of white.
Snowflakes whipped in the wind like countless crystalline butterflies, swirling and dancing above the battlefield.
Their confrontation finally revealed itself outside the barrier when the icy butterflies passed by.
Their simple clash whipped up a furious gust, dispersing the snowflakes and obscuring the view of all spectators.
Hesintos wielded the Seross Spirit Sword, its Cyrus Curse Mark shining like a full moon in the night. His mere swing seemed to cut the earth, protected by the barrier, into four parts.
The White Robed Pope stood at the center of the fractured square, not retreating a single step.
"Show me some real skills, Hesintos."
