Drake Supreme's expression twisted in terror the moment he sensed Asher's killing intent locking onto him. He didn't hesitate—not even for a breath. His body turned into a streak of blue light as he fled.
But he had barely moved when—
"Old Demon Drake, where are you going?"
A calm, faint voice whispered behind him.
Drake's heart stopped.
He turned stiffly—
Asher was standing directly behind him, hands clasped behind his back, smiling as if amused by a child's tantrum.
"Blood Marquis," Drake growled, spiritual energy surging, "don't go too far!"
He instantly activated his strongest defensive technique.
HOOOM—
Dark blue spiritual energy erupted, nearly black in color, forming a massive watery sphere that wrapped around him like an impenetrable shell.
This was his trump card.
A defense that few Supremes could break.
"Go too far?"
Asher chuckled lightly.
With a flick of his fingers, the blood long sword returned to his hand, humming with murderous joy.
