"Gaston Figo!!"
At the top of the shattered stone steps, a roar suddenly rang out. Four elderly men in black uniforms appeared, along with one in a white martial arts outfit.
Figo's gaze first swept over the figure in the white outfit, a long sword at his waist, before turning to the one who had shouted.
A white-haired man in his seventies, neither fat nor thin, with nothing particularly distinctive about him. He had an imposing presence, but it was the bearing of a man in a high position, not the aura of a powerful fighter. Judging by his build and physique, at most... an SR9?
Was this Saint Mendsbin?
It was Figo's first time seeing him in person.
And he'd now seen all Five Elders at once! The one in the middle really did feel powerful.
Behind the Five Elders, guards in armor appeared one after another. The elderly man leading them caught Figo's attention for a couple of extra seconds.
The current commander-in-chief of the three armed forces—Moka!
In the next moment, Raul, who had been embedded in the foot of the stone steps, rose like the wind and took his place behind the Five Elders, bowing to apologize for his failure. A long gash across his chest was bleeding freely, but for someone with an Admiral-level physique, it was only a minor injury. The wound was already quickly closing, though his expression had turned dazed, his gaze vacant.
It was different from ten years ago. Back then, he could tell himself that Figo had beaten him through trickery. But their brief clash just now had made him realize that a clear gap had opened between them. Figo could now firmly suppress him and defeat him in a fair fight. It would only take time!
He couldn't accept