In a luxurious conference hall marred with a ghastly aura. Among the 28 people present, 12 had their heads lowered while 15 others warily gazed at the man standing with his broadsword raised above his head, in the middle of the table.
Among them, the Emperor and the Dukes Of Darkness felt strange intuitive emotions rising up within their hearts and stomach as their gazes remained stuck on the pair of eyes centred behind him.
With no words spoken, they watched as the man's sword leaned forward and fell, cutting through the winds that seemed have stopped blowing.
Before the broadsword's tip touched the table top, the sword was stopped but the force it carried behind it came crashing down, pushing off most of the lighter materials placed on the table, faultlessly.
WHOOOSH-!
Without aiming at anything or anyone, the man continued to dance with his swords.
His dance was lucid, elegantly fluid, and
Destructive!