Meaningless Struggle

"Ligna?" Tyrion arched his thick, bushy-white eyebrow, his silvery-white mane fluttering as shockwaves ripples through him.

"Swish."

Ligna was blasted several paces back by the unimaginably massive force. Each of his steps creating deep cracks on the hardened floor. A look of incredulous shock surfaced on him.

"It's you!!?" He was stumped. Even through those rippling muscles and white furs he could still remember Tyrion's feature as he had deemed him dangerous and also the fact that he had a photographic memory.

He never expected that the person to disrupt his moment with the Dark priestess at this moment would be some protégé from the back water academy called Death Gate.

How could the ordinary student of a mortal organization raise his saber against a Pristess of the Dark Temple?!

"I didn't think you would try to stop me seeing as your people also died." Tyrion looked at Ligna in mild surprise.