Fyren and Enryst fought uninterrupted for a solid minute before finally getting some distance. They circled each other warily, yet none moved to strike first.
"Damn, he really was holding back," LUke muttered, rubbing his horn.
Arantius offered a faint smile. "Indeed. I questioned the demon's skill once, but it seems there was no need. I am somewhat motivated to challenge him now, myself."
"Are you even stronger?" Luke asked, eyes widening.
"Stronger? Yes, though in this context, I might not win against Ernyst, either. His skill with a sword is exceptional, matching the champions of War, though, admittedly, his expertise extends only to single combat. That either of these two decided to train you is nothing short of a miracle. It would be as if a ninth-level mage personally took on an apprentice who had only just connected with their mana."
"Am I truly so far behind?" Luke asked.
