Hector smirked as he slowly slid his sword back into its sheath. He then glanced at Violet, who was kneeling on the ground, not daring to look up.
He could already imagine the disbelief on her face. After all, she had just lost—pathetically.
The first daughter of a great Clan, someone who was supposed to be a swordsmanship genius, and yet she lost to a nobody… a nameless guy.
Even if she tried to excuse it with her own words, it didn't help. It only made her look more pathetic than ever.
She knew that even if they had fought fairly, she wasn't sure she could beat Hector.
Hector's swordsmanship was on another level. And the fact that she had always believed herself to be at the peak of swordsmanship… It made her sick.
(How pathetic you are, Violet.) She smiled bitterly to herself.
Hector had already forced her back two steps, and as she had judged from the start, she had already lost.
