The remaining guards stood frozen in shock.
Then, almost mechanically, they raised their swords toward Jax.
But those blades trembled violently in their hands.
Because the face they were witnessing made their blood run cold. His gaze wasn't even directed at them, yet they felt as if their throats were already in his grasp.
It didn't feel like Jax was the one surrounded.
It felt like they were the prey.
They watched helplessly as Jax pushed his sword deeper into the professor's throat. Slowly. Deliberately. The poor man retreated step by step, bending backward, until he collapsed onto the ground.
Jax followed his descent perfectly.
The blade never pierced flesh. Never drew blood. It simply declared one absolute truth.
One wrong move, and this sword would tear apart everything it touched and that is why poor professor was not able to use his skillset.
The crowd watched in horror.
