In the blink of an eye, the two had exchanged over a hundred blows, each strike booming like muffled thunder inside the tomb.

"You know that much about my background? Tell me—who the hell are you?" Stanley roared, stunned.

Fury flared in his chest, but beneath it was something far more dangerous—fear. He could not see through Andrew at all. Worse, he could feel this young man's power seemed somehow suppressed or restrained.

If he were to unleash his full strength without any limitations, Stanley feared that even with his 100 years of training—hell, even with another 100 years—he would face nothing but the miserable fate of being crushed to death.

That horrifying realization crept deeper with every strike.

Andrew was simply unfathomable, making even an old monster like himself feel completely exposed and vulnerable as if he had been stripped naked.

Andrew's movements flowed like a celestial dragon, swift and fluid as he soared forward. Energy surged between his palms, spi