"Red-Haired, did you get word and come to help the Mink Tribe? Why are you here alone? Where's your crew? This is your chance to kill me."
Werther's hands were itching for a fight. Since his Swordsmanship had reached level twenty, he had wanted to test himself against a powerful opponent.
"I only came to visit an old friend. I didn't expect something like this to happen to Zunesha. But if you're on the island, it all makes sense."
Red-Haired drew the Cavalry Saber at his waist and watched Werther warily.
Werther drove his foot into the ground and shot toward Red-Haired.
Red-Haired was an old opponent of Werther's. He had grown used to his speed.
Blade met blade.
Boom!
A fierce gust burst from their clashing weapons. The Minks around them could barely keep their eyes open, and the weaker ones staggered backward.
Crack, crack, crack...
White fractures spread through the air from the point where their blades met.
Rumble! A muffled roar sounded overhead.
As the wind died down, the Minks instinctively looked up. Dark clouds covered the sky.
But directly above Werther and Red-Haired, the clouds had split apart, revealing a stretch of blue.
"The sky... they split it open."
A canine Mink stared upward, unaware that the weapon in his hand had fallen to the ground.
Crack, crack, crack...
The fractures in the air continued to spread. Werther gripped his sword with both hands and held firm against Red-Haired.
"You're much stronger than before. Looks like you've crossed that threshold. Was it your Swordsmanship?"
Werther said nothing. He only smiled at Red-Haired.
They both poured strength into their weapons. With a boom, each forced the other back.
Werther drove Intent Blood into the ground and quickly stopped sliding.
"Red-Haired, how about a fight? Those two 'little