A deafening blast echoed through the air.

The blood-red curved longsword wielded by the black-armored warrior had severed the silver dragon's head in half.

The shockwave generated by their collision swept out in all directions like a tidal wave, blowing up debris in its path.

The crowd was forced to retreat by the gusting wind, struggling to keep their eyes open.

Moments later, after the chaos subsided, a transformation had already taken place on the battlefield.

On the left, Vincent held his silver spear with a solemn expression, his clothes torn. His hand that was gripping his spear trembled slightly.

On the right, Marco stood in silence. The eerie red glow of his Demon blade faded as he sheathed it slowly.

They stood 30 feet apart, gazing at each other across the field without uttering a word. It seemed as if time had frozen.

"What happened? Who won?" The crowd exchanged looks of confusion.

That final blow had been too quick for ordinary martial artists to follow. The