Atlas’ attack came with fierce momentum as he swung his axes with enough force to shatter stone.

Miles focused intently and chose to advance rather than retreat. He deftly ducked under Atlas’ swinging axes, his hair barely missing their deadly arc.

As Atlas’ axes missed their mark, Miles sword was already in motion.

A sharp clang echoed through the air. While taking advantage of his momentum, Miles’ sword sliced fiercely across Atlas’ chest and abdomen as he skimmed past him.

The blow shredded Atlas’ attire and exposed the padded armor beneath, marked with a faint white streak.

“Hmm?” Miles frowned.

His sword strike had been cunningly angled, executed swiftly and accurately. He had anticipated it would incapacitate Atlas immediately. But to his surprise, Atlas’ padded armor absorbed the critical blow.

“Kid, I hate to admit you’ve got skills,” Atlas remarked. He looked down at his torn clothes with a serious expression.

He added, “If I hadn’t been prepared, you might have had me there. But you only get one sneak attack. From here on out, I’ll crush you with my full strength!”

He had initially underestimated Miles and didn’t take him seriously. However, after Miles’ cunning and precise strike, Atlas was now on high alert.

It became clear to him that Miles, a disciple of the Sword Union, was a formidable opponent. At that instant, Atlas knew he must go all out to ensure victory.

Ha! Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes!” Miles raised his sword slowly and looked at his

Atlas’ protective armor, Miles was confident his sword skills could triumph without a fatal strike. It just meant he’d

Atlas roared as he

barrage of ax shadows at

swiftly wielded his sword to create a flurry of blade shadows around him. Each stroke created powerful gusts of wind

shadows in intensity without faltering.

loudly through the air. In a split second, sparks erupted as two figures plunged into

heavy-handed and direct. His axes swung with overwhelming force that proved

by executing precise,

the other. It was a close and intense

held the edge

cunningly. He relied on his protective gear to embrace a

trading blows, so he was forced to relinquish

stamina, and resolve. The winner could endure longer, as exhaustion meant

the battle ring while the atmosphere

victories and defeats carried immense weight for the gamblers. The outcome was pivotal for the

until their

“Go, Number 12!”

Aurora, caught in the thrill of the moment, joined the exuberant cheers of the crowd. Initially hesitant, their voices

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