Sylas felt his legs fracture on impact. He barely managed to catch himself, his body swaying wildly as the pain ravaged his mind. His expression, though, remained mostly unreadable.
He stood, forcefully stabilizing his body.
Unfortunately, his healing factor had yet to be recovered by him. Becoming a D Grade Race was amazing, it was just unfortunate that that also meant his Genes carried much less weight and his body was far harder to heal.
BANG!
Ebison landed, his expression eager and his face practically languishing in the opportunity before him. It was like he wanted to savor the moment—the chance to impress a woman by killing an F-tier didn't come every day.
However, he was forced to snap out of it.
"Do I have to repeat myself?" the Duchess' father spoke again, and he was shaken awake.
That was right, he had already said to begin, so why hadn't he?
