The Price of the Past
There was no third outcome.
Yet...
Victor didn't move.
Instead, he rested the Death Scythe comfortably across his shoulder.
His posture remained relaxed, almost casual, as though the battle had become nothing more than light entertainment.
A carefree smile lingered on his face.
"What are you doing?"
His voice was calm.
Almost disappointed.
"Go on."
"Finish your spell."
Alibaba's empty eye sockets remained fixed on Victor.
For several long seconds, neither of them spoke.
Finally, he asked,
"What do you mean?"
"Aren't you going to eliminate me?"
Victor let out a quiet chuckle.
"I will."
His answer came without hesitation.
"But only after you've used that spell of yours."
He took another slow step forward.
Each footfall echoed across the devastated battlefield.
"The last time we fought..."
His smile faded ever so slightly.
"I was forced to retreat because of various reasons."
His golden eyes blazed with absolute confidence.
Not arrogance.
