Tobiah's graying long hair was whipped violently backward by the raging storm. He instinctively tightened his grip on Knox's hand and said in a trembling voice, "Knox… Andrew actually caught Othniel's blade head-on?"

Knox also felt that Andrew was taking a huge risk, but after a brief hesitation, he chose to stay silent and watch what happened next. As the storm dispersed, blood dripped steadily from Andrew's left fist. Yet, there was a faint smile on his face.

Othniel's heavy cavalry saber stopped just a finger's width from Andrew's forehead. That tiny distance became an absolute barrier, and the blade could not move forward any further.

Othniel's eyes widened as shock surged through him, his heart pounding. He knew exactly how devastating that strike had been.

After all, he was a martial god-level fighter, combining the Highland Tribe's supernatural strength with his own natural combat prowess. Any ordinary human who tried to match his raw power was asking for death.

Yet Andrew,