For a few seconds, the White Whale made no movement. Her face still held that same coldness as always.
But her long silence, her fixed gaze, and her fingers that still gripped the sword's hilt with pressure revealed her deep shock.
She hadn't been defeated for years.
Even when she faced fighters of her own rank, she always found a way to continue the battle.
Perhaps she couldn't defeat them immediately, but no one could reach a point where her death was certain with such simplicity.
The last time she had seen Daniel, the young man before her had to use all his focus and power just to withstand a few strikes.
Back then, the White Whale was still sure that even if a real battle took place, she would ultimately be the victor.
But now... her gaze fell on the two fingers near her throat.
Then she looked at Daniel's other hand. There was no weapon in it, no aura of mana flowing on his body.
No remaining trace of a skill or law could be seen. He had truly kept his promise.
