Alex smirked, his tone dripping with mockery.
"You can try."
But then—his expression changed.
That grin stretched wider, sharper, until it wasn't a smile at all, but the face of a battle maniac. A dangerous gleam lit his eyes, and the sheer pressure behind it made both Veyra and Veyron flinch.
Their gazes fell to the sword in his hand. The moment they truly saw it, their breath caught—the pitch-black edge devouring light, its surface rippling with a strange cosmic shimmer.
And then, in a single blur of motion—
Alex and Ethan burst forward.
Ethan intercepted Veyron mid-flight, steel clashing against scythe, sparks raining through the air.
Their weapons screeched in protest, each strike like a thunderclap—but with each clash, Ethan's blade was getting weaker. Suddenly, strange golden flames surrounded it, and it became stronger than before.
Alex, seeing this, clicked his tongue, murmuring, "Looks like being a hero has its perks."
Then Alex went straight for Veyra.
