An eerie silence descended in an instant, only to be crushed by surging air currents the next second. Invisible gusts roared through the hall, sending Diana's black hair fluttering in the wind.
Her wine-red strapless gown stubbornly retained the last shred of its dignity as clothing amid the gale, making Astra click his tongue regretfully. He reluctantly took another swig of wine and continued staring fixedly at Diana, his eyes filled with amusement and anticipation.
"Has anyone ever told you that this is a very rude thing to do to a woman?" Diana paid Astra's gaze no mind. Since coming of age, she had seen that look in countless people and had long since grown numb to it. Instead, she straightened her back even more proudly.
Her perfect body was the universe's favor upon her.
"My father once said that in battle, there is no distinction between men and women, only victors and losers." Beckett's lips curled with disdain. He yanked hard on the golden whip in his right hand, clenched his left hand into a fist, and drove it straight at the woman standing proudly before him.
Since this woman looked hard to reason with, he would beat her until she became reasonable. Beckett's thinking was simple.
His decisiveness made Astra, who was watching the battle, shake his head repeatedly and click his tongue.
"I hate that saying. Do you know why? Because it reminds me of that old bat next door."
"Of course, the saying itself is correct. I just don't like your tone."
"Now, let me teach you what kind of tone a man should use when speaking to me, when speaking to a queen."
"Kneel."
Overwhelming momentum burst from Diana's body. Vast power condensed around her into form as a brilliant royal sword slashed down toward