One-Minute Real Man
Once they reached an open space, Steffan stood there with a calm expression and said, "Don't say I bully weaklings. You can make the first move. If you can hurt me within a minute, I'll spare your life."
His voice drifted across the training grounds like a cold wind.
There was no arrogance in his tone.
No deliberate provocation.
Yet that calmness itself was the greatest form of contempt.
To Steffan, Julian D'Aurelius simply wasn't worthy of caution.
Around them, hundreds of eyes focused on the two figures standing opposite each other.
The atmosphere was suffocating.
Even the rustling leaves seemed quieter than before.
Not to mention this kid was only at the early Silver Realm.
Even if he were at the early Gold Realm, he wouldn't be worth his attention.
His cultivation was honed through countless life-and-death battles, emerging from mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
Every scar on his body had been earned through combat.
