On top of the city walls, the soldiers of the Hector Kingdom erupted into cheers as Butler began to overwhelm Roman from the very start.
"Waaaaah!"
"Butler! Butler!"
"Avenge our fallen comrades!"
Roman Dmitri.
That name was etched into their bones.
As Roman stood exposed under the sunlight, memories of their comrades' deaths resurfaced, and the soldiers of Hector pressed themselves against the walls, their eyes gleaming with madness.
They had no doubt about Butler's victory.
To them, Butler was a symbol of trust, and even if the opponent was strong, they believed no one could surpass Butler.
But then, at some point, the atmosphere began to shift strangely.
As Roman Dmitri started to gain momentum, the top of the walls fell into a silence as if cold water had been poured over them.
"... How is this possible? Roman Dmitri is a 3-star swordsman, right? How is he holding his own against Butler, a 5-star swordsman? Someone explain this to me. Please, someone explain this situation."
As someone muttered, a wave of shock spread through the surroundings.
Edwin Hector was no exception.
No, from the moment Roman Dmitri withstood the '5-star aura,' he had lost control of his expression.
'Is he really planning to fight with his true strength?'
Ripples formed in his pupils.