Prescott was fuming with rage, realizing that he was set up. Everything had been an act, staged by Andrew for both him and Garal.

"The Ludendorff family will make sure you die without a grave!" Prescott roared again in fury.

He could only see afterimages flashing wildly before his eyes. He curled his body defensively, constantly changing direction mid-air.

Yet, it was useless.

Andrew was like a parasite, appearing at his side no matter where he moved. Behind his neck, above his head, and even below him, Andrew was always there.

Prescott broke out in a cold sweat. He thought Andrew was too strong, so strong that Prescott could not even track his movements.

It was simply impossible.

Prescott had only ever felt this kind of terror when facing Raiden, and that had been more than 20 years ago. Back then, he had not yet become a martial god and had not yet reached his peak state.

Now, he was at the peak of his life, yet that same horrifying feeling had returned.

Prescott knew it w