"It's still three hour to go until the welcoming feast... What should we do?" Shooter asked, scratching the back of his neck. "We can't go outside..."
Irvin leaped aside, barely in time, and felt the air brush his face as the massive broadsword rushed past. Draglos' expression was calm and focused... And deadly. It was his duty as he saw it to slay the killer of his mentor and stop more Dimago from being killed.
Just as Irvin knew it was his duty to slay every Dimago on earth. He needed to kill them... All of them. Or else, Proudmoore family that was killed in the battle years ago will never rest in peace. With a cry, Irvin brought Lorimar down.
Draglos' Grantein blocked it. The two fighters strained, their faces within inches of each other, the muscles in their arm shaking with effort.
"You are not prepared, Celestrian."