The Redvein duke, known for his cunning and ruthless swordsmanship, was a formidable opponent. His red aura crackled with power, matching my father's attacks blow for blow. Their attacks were so sharp that even the barrier of the dueling arena began to shake.
As they exchanged strikes, I was filled with pride. My father's skill with the sword was unmatched, honed through years of training and war. He moved with aggression and precision, each movement displaying the [Heaven-Felling Sword Art] to absolute perfection.
"Come! Johnathan, are you not filled with rage? Why are you so weak?!" The redvein duke taunted with a grin.
"Hmph! You slimy bastard!" My father replied with a roar, his sword held by both hands.
The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps as the duel intensified. Swords clashed, sending sparks flying, and the ground trembled beneath their feet, the Mana marble enforced with steel, and Mana stones almost cracked.