The celebratory atmosphere vanished, replaced by the tension of drawn swords.
Philip strode to the center of the hall, a confident smile on his face.
He drew the long sword at his waist. The blade was magnificent, inlaid with a potent ruby that glittered under the light.
"Prince Raylo. Please."
He took a standard opening stance as Fighting Spirit rose around him, forming a pale red, fiery aura.
Raylo walked slowly to the center of the hall, empty-handed.
He didn't draw a sword or even summon a weapon. He just stood there casually, raising his right hand, palm facing Philip.
"Let's begin,"
he said nonchalantly.
His dismissive attitude thoroughly enraged Philip.
He felt humiliated like never before.
"Arrogant!"
Philip roared in fury and stomped hard, the floorboards letting out a dull thud.
