At the center of the main battlefield, a brief lull followed repeated all-out clashes.
Guan Yu and Saint Shamrock faced each other from afar, their auras fluctuating slightly. A corner of Guan Yu's green robe had been scorched by Hellhound's ghostly flames, leaving a blackened mark, but he remained perfectly composed. His Green Dragon Crescent Blade pointed diagonally toward the sea, wind and thunder slowly gathering along its edge. Saint Shamrock, meanwhile, wore a dark expression. His magnificent knightly uniform had acquired several tears, and the web of his sword-wielding right hand was bleeding slightly. Clearly, he had suffered a small setback in their earlier clash of rules.
"Your strength has indeed exceeded this god's expectations." Saint Shamrock's voice was icy, carrying a trace of offended anger. "But this ends here! The dignity of the Holy Knights shall not be profaned!"
Unable to prevail after their prolonged battle, Saint Shamrock felt his arrogance and impatience as a "god" growing. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Zhao Yun's fierce battle with Kizaru in the distance, and a cold, efficient idea flashed through his mind.
"Mortal emotions are your greatest weakness."
He pretended to maintain his standoff with Guan Yu while secretly regulating his breathing and gathering power for a slash. The next instant, his figure became a phantom that almost blended into the dark background, veering at an uncanny angle toward Zhao Yun, who was exchanging high-speed blows with Kizaru nearby. His target was Zhao Yun's back, directly behind the heart! He had planned this strike for some time, calculating the rhythm of Kizaru's attacks to ensure a one-hit kill, or at least a grievous wound, and break this irritating stalemate once and for all.
"Hm?!" Guan Yu had been preparing to destroy the incoming slash