Identity Exposed, Blackmailing the King of the World!

"Criminal!"

Shamrock roared, his voice twisted with rage.

"Have you no honor as a swordsman?!"

By convention, two swordsmen never used physical attacks in a contest of swordsmanship. It was an understanding, a tradition, a courtesy between swordsmen. That kick had broken every rule.

Dawn hovered in the air and tilted his head, a mocking smile plain on his face.

"A swordsman's honor? What's that worth? I'm not even a pure swordsman. Besides, you said it yourself: I'm a criminal. Have you ever met a criminal who was noble and upright?"

The instant he finished speaking, he slashed at Shamrock from afar. A wave of purple-black energy burst from his blade.

Shamrock sheathed his Rapier in a flash. His left hand gripped the hilt as he crouched slightly and shifted his weight forward.

"Condemnation!"

The instant his Rapier left its sheath again, a hair-thin red line swept diagonally upward to meet the purple-black wave.

The wave split down the middle. Its two halves swept past Shamrock and obliterated two buildings behind him. The crimson line, however, lost none of its force. It flew on toward Dawn, cut through his Nether Abyss Prison Garment, and drew a few drops of blood.

Dawn glanced down at his shoulder. A shallow wound ran three inches long and half a centimeter deep. He looked up at Shamrock, his face twisting into exaggerated surprise.

"Oh? You actually managed to hurt me? Is this what all your training has amounted to? Not bad. Keep at it and you might even kill me someday."

"What I'm more curious about is how you practiced drawing your sword with one hand."

Shamrock's face went from livid to purple with rage.

Humiliation. Sheer humiliation. He had trained for so long, pushed his Immortal Body to its limits, and endured pain