"What kind of joke is this—"
I'm Shut, one of Dysdark's Three Musketeers! I'm the one who will use despair to seal away the dreams of the world! Even that Fortress of Despair is mine—how dare you look down on me!
The despair energy erupting from his entire body fully enveloped him! Whether it was blade strikes or direct energy blasts, the slender Shut made full use of his advantages, attacking Ash again and again with all his strength! He swore to cut him down right here!
Yet he couldn't land a hit.
Ash moved with only one foot, but like a bat hanging upside down in a cave, slipping through the shadows, he followed his own shadow and lightly shifted several times, evading every attack.
"Do you know? If King went all out, any battle would end in an instant, no matter who he faced."
His right leg, clad in heavy greaves, spun into Shut's waist, folding him over like a reed.
"If that happened, the opponent wouldn't have a chance to show what they could do. There'd be no glory, no brilliance. It would be far too boring."
One kick, two kicks, three kicks. Straight kick, high kick, reverse spinning kick.
Simple, straightforward consecutive kicking techniques. As he repeatedly raised his leg in an unbroken barrage, Shut, whose gentlemanly composure had utterly shattered, could only howl and retreat again and again.
"A King's battle must be entertaining!"
"Thump, thump, thump!"
"Gwah!"
The dull sounds of heavy impacts came one after another, accompanied by Shut's pained cries. With both hands sealed behind his back, Ash looked as relaxed as if he were strolling down a covered corridor after lunch, avoiding a light drizzle.
Kicks followed kicks, heavy blows followed heavy blows. At first, Shut had still been able to