Upon hearing this, Cú Chulainn's eyes flashed with a resolute light. His chest thrust forward sharply, like an unshakable towering mountain. A trace of stubbornness emerged on his face—a steadfast defense of his own beliefs, and respect for his mentor, Scathach.
He gripped the crimson demonic spear in his hand tightly. It was the symbol of his battles and the source of his strength. The spear danced in his grasp like a red fire serpent twisting through the air, letting out deafening howls as though it would tear apart the surrounding air. Every swing shook the air and formed tiny cracks, as though even space trembled beneath his power.
Powerful winds radiated from the demonic spear, forming invisible forces that pressed the surrounding soil apart inch by inch, as though even the earth trembled beneath Cú Chulainn's power. He was like the eye of a storm; no matter how the outside world changed, his heart remained as firm as ever.
"Then I'll go first!" Cú Chulainn shouted, his voice filled with confidence and determination. He stomped heavily on the ground, his leg muscles springing like coiled steel as his figure shot forward and raced toward Chang Wei.
His body was like a streak of blue lightning, tracing a dazzling path through the air. He was so fast that he seemed ready to set the air ablaze. When he was still over five meters away from Chang Wei, he suddenly thrust out his spear. The scarlet spearhead drew a bloody arc through the air, as though it would pierce the hearts of every enemy standing in its way.
At that moment, Cú Chulainn seemed to see the enemy's corpse with its heart pierced through. His eyes were full of resolve and ferocity, as though he had concentrated all his strength into