Beyond the chessboard.
In suffocating silence, everyone stared wide-eyed.
Only Marcus, dozing in his wheelchair, lifted his eyes slightly and smiled without saying anything.
Across the chessboard, Mathers, who had been staring in shock and practically trying to crawl onto the board and stick his head into the battlefield, finally raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot.
They had already turned crimson.
As though he had awakened from a nightmare, he clenched his fists so tightly that his nails nearly tore through his palms. All of his former poise and elegance vanished as he roared hoarsely:
"Russell!!!"
That furious cry echoed through the hall. Even the young son of the Grand Lord of Thunder beside him froze for a moment and instinctively edged farther away.
As if driven mad, Mathers swung his fists wildly, cursing the man who had never even come here with every vulgar slang term and obscenity he knew.
Roaring, shouting, shrieking.
Beating his chest and stamping his feet.
At last, he stood there trembling and gasping. His disheveled, grizzled hair hung over his forehead, making him look even more sinister and ferocious.
Only after a long while did he finally calm down.
Yet even though his face returned to normal, his eyes remained crimson.
His killing intent was vicious.
It was not just him. At that moment, Golden Dawn members far away in the Land of Nothingness, in the depths of every hell, and on the border battlefields were all consumed by uncontrollable fury.
All because of this challenge—so arrogantly laughable, yet so taunting that it drove them mad!
It was as if they could see that Old Turtle clutching his cane, humming and tap-dancing in front of them—spinning and leaping without pause, doing a split beneath the spotlight before bouncing back up, then turning three