"Oh? And how do you plan to do that?" Orvane asked with keen curiosity. Directing his gaze toward Marek's black sword, he said:
"Your [Great Divider] is indeed a powerful item, capable enough to cut through even my armour. But what good will it do if you can't kill me in a single blow?"
Orvane raised his right hand and clenched it, feeling his blood rushing through his veins. "For countless generations, the blood of my family's great ancestor had been keeping us alive in more ways than one. Not only does it grant us a heightened sense of smell, but also a potent healing factor that grows in relation to our strength. With my current power, it is impossible for you to beat m—"
"Heavenly blood?" Marek repeated with disdain, "You speak highly of the cursed blood between a man and a dog. Despite you being an exception, your family are nothing more than mutt pups born with the deficiency to keep it in their pants."
