"Ah!" Mira cried out in shock when she saw that hand gripping the blade aimed at her throat so tightly that the sword could no longer advance.
Fresh blood gushed from that hand like a stream, dripping continuously onto the ground.
Mira's eyes widened in disbelief. Her mouth opened as if to scream, but no sound could escape her throat.
Irelia was also startled, her gaze fixed on Lathel's hand gripping the sword and his resolute expression.
"I will not allow you to harm my woman," Lathel roared. His voice was not only filled with determination, but also carried the aura of a king.
Upon hearing the deep and heavy tone of Lathel's voice, a trace of fear arose within Irelia's heart.
She wanted to withdraw her sword—but she couldn't.
'What the hell?!' Irelia's heart trembled in fear. 'He… that's impossible! He's just a useless man—how could he possibly possess the strength to stand against a Rank 1 Awakened One at the late stage like me?'