Murphy's pupils contracted slightly.
The Ironspine Duke watched him, the smile on his lips finally taking on a hint of sincerity.
"Once your Golden Core forms, you will exist on another level entirely. Only then can we truly have a fight to see which of us is stronger."
"But now..."
He shook his head gently.
"You can't kill me."
Murphy tightened his grip on the longsword in his hand.
The blade trembled slightly—not from fear, but from rage, indignation, and the helplessness of facing an insurmountable gap in strength.
He knew the Ironspine Duke was telling the truth.
He could feel it.
The light from his sword, powerful enough to kill any Second-Level Wizard, struck the Duke as if landing in a void.
He wasn't enduring the attacks.
He was ignoring them.
But Murphy was never one to give up easily.
He glared at the Ironspine Duke's composed, smiling face, his mind racing.
'Time?'
'Time, my ass.'
