Azel took the stance for Star Strike as Azariah took his own battle stance.
The air grew deathly quiet.
Every movement ceased, every spectator stilled, as though the entire world had been muted to witness this clash.
The two men faced each other, their gazes were sharp and the silence grew deafening until…
In the blink of an eye, they both rushed at each other.
'First Form – Bone Rush!'
Azariah's thought burned like fire in his mind as his muscles bulged with divine power.
This technique was the ancient art of the goddess — the technique passed down to her Patriarch bloodline flared to life.
His sword descended with brutal weight, its speed enough to break the sound barrier.
As the blade came down, wind tore free, splitting into countless invisible cutters.
The very air became a weapon; edges sharp enough to strip skin from bone lashed outward in all directions.
Anyone else would have been shredded just by standing too close.
