From the withered body erupted an astonishing rage, akin to a volcanic eruption.
The arm whipped out like a lash, suddenly shaking.
The sword blade carved a crescent shape in the stone chamber, crashing toward the young knight before him.
He had stayed in this stone chamber for too long, unaware of Herbert's identity and unclear of his true strength.
Yet, he felt an inexplicable confidence in Herbert.
The young knight before him, no, this legendary warrior, this powerful ascender, would certainly be able to withstand it.
And indeed, the result was just as he had anticipated.
Morton had accomplished everything he could, channeling a lifetime's worth of skills into this one sword blow.
However, even this sword, which condensed all his power, was effortlessly blocked by Herbert—with two fingers.
Ding.
Herbert pinched the old knight's sword blade between his two fingers with ease.
