"Lord Sword God..."
The speaker was Timothy Breeze, a burly man.
He was one of the Sword Sanctum's only two Sword Emperors, the head of the Breeze Family, and the father of Gino Breeze, whom Alice had just knocked down.
He and Sword God Gal Farion were cousins.
As the Sword Sanctum's second-in-command, the Sword Emperor frowned. "Lord Sword God, I alone am more than enough to deal with trash like this."
"No, you don't even need me. Any Swordsman here could do it."
Timothy Breeze's assessment was correct-at least from his own perspective.
Anyone permitted to train inside the Sword Sanctum's dojo was at least a Sword Saint.
Disciples below Sword Saint rank trained outside the dojo instead.
Timothy's words were also a minor protest against the Sword God.
As a Sword Emperor, Timothy differed from the Sword Kings and Sword Saints. He understood that combat meant deciding who lived and who died.
But as a Sword Emperor, Timothy also possessed the pride of the strong.
At least as far as Timothy could sense, Cui Ciyou was just an ordinary man.
He disdained taking the head of an ordinary man like that.
Someone had once said, "Scars on the back are a Swordsman's shame."
And Timothy held a similar conviction: "Taking a small fry's head is a stain on the strong."
When the Sword God remained silent, Timothy continued, "Even the disciples outside-no, anyone who's trained at the Sword Sanctum for even a single day..."
"Shut up," Gal Farion said coldly.
"Didn't you hear what I damn well said?"
"I said the two of you would attack together."
As he spoke, Sword God Gal Farion fixed his gaze on Cui Ciyou, the corners of his mouth slowly spreading into a distinctly sharklike grin.
"This guy... is dangerous."
Timothy and