Then, with deliberate slowness, he his right arm. His palm faced the sky as if presenting his opponent with a gift.
A heartbeat passed.
His fingers curled inward in beckoning motions.
No words were spoken. None were needed. The gesture was effortless, lazy even—yet it transmitted his message sharper than any words could ever hope to convey.
Come.
Do your best.
Little fox.
Raelor's features immediately darkened as a murderous aura enveloped his person, rage rapidly boiling inside him.
As the young fox was busy getting enraged, a commotion erupted in the stands, all thanks to a certain princess.
"Why's this bastard so damned hot?!" Kitsara shouted with a mixture of annoyance and awe evident in her tone.
"You're drooling…" Blade, Devil's samurai woman muttered.
