Zhang Tie stood in the void, watching the Devil Race knight's shattered body fall into the seawater below. After staining the surface a deep crimson, it gradually vanished without a trace.
This was the terror of close-quarters combat between knights. If they had exchanged blows from a distance, relying on a knight's agility and mobility in the air, Zhang Tie felt that he might have fought that knight for an entire day without a victor being decided. But in close combat, in this face-to-face knife fight, only a few hours had passed before the instant the protective Battle Qi was shattered, victory and defeat had already been determined. No matter how mighty that powerful knight had once been, no matter how much hardship he had endured on the road to becoming a knight, at the moment his protective Battle Qi broke, all that glory and history, all that splendor, became passing clouds and drifting smoke.
At that critical moment, the Devil Race knight had actually wanted to run—or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he merely wanted to temporarily widen the distance between them, so that his protective Battle Qi would have enough time to recover. But how could Zhang Tie possibly have allowed him to leave?
This was a war between races. There was no mercy to speak of.
What if one day, his own protective Battle Qi was shattered in close combat with another knight?
That recent battle had made Zhang Tie keenly feel the brutality of a knight's duel. He had no choice but to seriously consider how he should respond if he found himself in such a desperate situation. What if he encountered someone like the Demon Marshal? This was a matter that concerned his very life.
The knight's chakra slowly revolved within