"Isn't it a bit weak?"
Seraph asked casually, causing him to jump away, startled.
"You bast-!"
Seraph didn't let him complete the word. He shot straight at him, spear in hand.
Faga was forced to use his cracked sword to block the flurry of attacks, and he was being forced back with every exchange.
'Damnit! I'm still weaker than him! How is this possible?! I trained for years just to catch up to him but I still can't?!'
Anger, indignation, and a sense of helplessness filled his heart.
'I only… I only wanted to make an hierarchy!'
Suddenly, Seraph's spear sank into his left thigh, only stopping before it pierced his bone.
"You!"
Furious, he blew a tornado of flames at Seraph, but the white-haired disciple easily dodged it.
"Hm? Brother Faga, you're getting injured. Are you sure you don't want to stop vying for justice now? It would be bad if you end up greatly injured."
Seraph's taunting words had the exact effect he wanted.
