"Ren, stay back."
Extending his hand towards my direction, Waylan pushed me back. His piercing, ice-cold gaze indifferently scanned Durara who was standing opposite him.
Holding onto a wooden staff double her size, a red orb deeply embedded at the very top of it. A soft, misty red hue shrouded the area around the staff, creating a mysterious feeling.
A heavy tension enshrouded the hall as both sides were locked in an intense stare-off.
WIIIIING—!
In a smooth motion, Waylan took out his broadsword and pointed it in Durara's direction.
Comparing the pressure he was giving off to Durara's, I could tell that he was weaker than her. In fact, it wasn't even a close match as his aura was swiftly getting suppressed by her.
Waylan also seemed to know this fact as a never-before-seen look of seriousness marred his face.
Without wasting any time, he channeled what little bit of mana he had recovered in his body towards the tip of the broadsword.
