"That sword art...," Damian said softly.
Max looked at him. "It belongs to a senior whose sword path deserves utmost respect."
Damian nodded once. "Then I will answer it with everything I have."
Max smiled faintly. "Good."
The two of them moved at the same time. Damian stepped forward, and the entire arena seemed to vanish before his sword.
"Throne Of The Only Sword."
His blade came down. At that moment, every spectator felt as though there was only one sword left in the world. It carried Damian's full belief, full pride, full defeat, full refinement, and full will.
The sword did not need a storm behind it anymore, because it was the storm. It did not need the sword heaven to support it anymore, because it was the sword heaven condensed into one strike. It cut straight toward Max with the dignity of a sovereign blade that refused to bow before anything.
Max also stepped forward, and Dragonheart descended in his hands.
"Saint Origin Sword Art."
His eyes became calm.
