Then Randall changed tack and continued:
"But we're not done yet, Vice Admiral Dragon. I want to see the true limits of your strength.
I'll give it everything I've got, so please don't hold back!"
No sooner had he spoken than Randall proved through his actions that he truly intended to go all out.
Black-and-white vapor billowed from within Randall, twisting and coiling into a majestic, ornate suit of full-body armor that encased him completely.
On the armor's back, six pairs of combat wings—twelve in all—gleamed in the sunlight.
Dragon's gaze sharpened at the sight of that armor.
"So this is the armor Pops mentioned... It could withstand a punch from Pops. That's incredible!"
As his son, he knew all too well how powerful his father's fists were.
After all, he'd been on the receiving end of them since childhood.
Whenever he faced his father's fists, he felt as though there was no way to defend himself.
That was why his praise for Randall came straight from the heart.
"In that case, understood! I'll give it everything I've got!"
Seeing the fighting spirit in Randall's eyes, Dragon swallowed what he'd originally intended to say, and a serious look settled over his face.
The two stared at each other for a long moment. Then, at the same instant, both moved.
As though someone had cut out the intervening frames, they went from utter stillness to explosive motion, colliding in the middle in a single instant.
The air stirred by their attacks formed a storm that swirled around them.
The collisions between their limbs sometimes rang out like clashing metal, crisp and clear, and sometimes rumbled like thunder, low and oppressive.
"Dragon's Breath!"
Amid their exchanges, Dragon's eyes suddenly hardened. The muscles of his upper arm bulged, doubling in thickness, while his