Shadow Slave

Chapter 1703

Sunny's words hung in the air, contrasted starkly against his polite smile. The two young Masters seemed frozen, as if unable to digest what they had just heard.

Mercy of Clan Dagonet let out a stifled breath.

At the same time, Ascended Tristan's eyes widened.

His face, frozen in a state of stunned disbelief, was slowly contorted by a grimace of righteous wrath.

Trembling in outrage, he bellowed:

"You dare?!"

Sunny couldn't quite believe it. He held his breath, his heart beating wildly.

'Is... is he going to say it? He's going to say it! He totally is!'

His smile remained perfectly pleasant.

"I do dare. Why, wasn't that obvious from my remark? Or has your Flaw made you deaf? Goodness gracious... dumb and deaf. What an unfortunate fate. You have my sympathy."

The young Master stared at him, mouth agape. After a few moments of silence, Tristan pointed a trembling finger at Sunny and hissed:

"You are courting death, mongrel!"

'He said it!'

He had really said it. That was... Sunny had no words. It was really too astonishing.

He struggled to suppress a burst of laughter.

'Amazing. But also, what is it with Legacy brats and calling people mongrels?’

Sunny kept his composure with titanic effort, and shrugged.

"Funny you should say, but I am indeed somewhat of a mongrel."

which seemed to send

a concerning shade of red, Ascended Tristan outstretched

far, scoundrel... you need to be taught a lesson. I, Tristan of Aegis

Sunny blinked.

"Huh?"

he suggested that the fool had been dropped on his head. But now, it seemed like maybe there was

were all gazing at them with strange expressions. Master Mercy had abandoned his attempts

'A duel, huh…’

from his face and said

"I refuse."

Tristan grinned.

summon your... huh? What?

Sunny nodded.

I refuse. What,

him in confusion for a few moments, then asked in

you refuse? That's cowardly! D-don't you have any

simply shook his

honor. In fact, I wouldn't be caught dead having honor. Such a

had to do to experience the entire triumvirate of clichés was to

the poor fool was really suffering from a character Flaw. His behavior was too outrageously hot-blooded to be explained by simple foolhardiness. Plus, it wouldn't be a good look

to teach the loud brat a

pussed, staring at him with angry eyes.

duel to first blood. I... I

him

to hell with

He sighed.

first blood? Fine... I

smile turned a

have a Memory

words, young Master

a single Memory weapon? And

of his head, his face

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