In an instant, the man appeared above Randall, raised his blade, and brought it down at his head.
With a clang, the blade struck Randall's raised forearm, ringing like a bronze bell.
The man's expression did not change when his strike was blocked. He simply redirected the blade, scraping it along the armor toward Randall's neck.
Rather than retreating, Randall stepped forward and punched at the man's face.
The man's eyes flickered. He abandoned his attack and drew his blade back to defend.
With a loud clang, Randall's heavy punch slammed into the flat of the blade.
The man had clearly underestimated Randall's strength and was sent flying.
Shing—
Though startled, the man still instinctively unleashed two blood-red flying slashes.
Randall's expression shifted. Those two slashes were already at the level of a Great Swordsman, though they were still far inferior to Golden Lion's.
Two thunderous booms rang out as Randall's fists surged like dragons, shattering both slashes.
Seeing Randall shatter his slashes so easily, the man's expression finally changed, disbelief filling his eyes.
He had once obsessively challenged renowned swordsmen. Whenever he used this move, the swordsman facing him would invariably die full of resentment.
That was why he had named it Blood-Sealing Throat.
Yet he had just watched Randall casually throw two punches and shatter his proudest technique.
It almost made him wonder whether this world was fake.
Just then, thunder suddenly rumbled, and blue lightning flashed.
Randall snapped his gaze toward Christa. The other two men from the boat had indeed stayed out of his duel with the swordsman, but while he was occupied, they had gone to attack Christa and the others.
There was a little girl aboard a navy admiral's ship. Even thinking with their asses, they could tell she must have a close connection