The voice beneath the mask was calm and level, but her hands were already raised to meet the attack, fingers loosely curved into claws.
Her knuckles had gone slightly white, a sign that her muscles were tensed to their limit.
Several more figures emerged from the shadows: a bald man as massive as a boulder stood in silence; a lean young man whose hands were covered in scars flexed his eight fingers; a short, hooded figure stood quietly in a corner; and there was the blonde woman who always wore a subtle smile.
Every gaze settled on the blond man at the docks.
He removed his sunglasses and spun one temple arm around his fingertip.
"Very good."
He straightened his tie again, the fabric making a faint rustling sound.
His next words were addressed both to the masked woman and to everyone in the shadows:
"Then see for yourselves-"
"Who deserves your loyalty."
His fingertips stirred, and an invisible web of threads silently enveloped the entire arena.
In the tavern, two figures sat facing each other, talking over their drinks.
Blue light suddenly flared outside the window, cleaving the sky and bathing the tabletop in a cold glow.
The trail, flickering with tiny sparks of electricity, lingered in the air like a crack in the sky.
"To think this island concealed a presence like that."
The figure setting down his glass spoke softly.
"That's Doffy's ability."
The other explained.
"That isn't a sword."
The first shook his head. "But power itself is no different.
Only by becoming strong enough can you break free of your bonds."
"So you don't intend to devote everything to swordsmanship?"
A piercing gaze reached past the rim of the glass. "I can tell you're looking farther ahead."
What he pursued was the pinnacle of the