Sheena shrugged. "It's mostly lit up, and now it's just the dragon's body left to finish! But the problem is, I haven't been able to unleash its power even once. So I'm frustrated, because what's ahead of me is going to be a draining fight."
Andrew grew curious. "Who are you going up against this time?"
Sheena grinned. "The head of Swordhaven Keep, Alfredo Topsfield, third on the Titan List!"
Andrew was genuinely surprised. "Was it Patriarch Donovan who asked you to fight Alfredo Topsfield?"
Sheena shook her head. "Not Grandpa. It's my own decision. Alfredo has been dodging fights, refusing to face me. But this has been going on for almost a year now. If he thinks he can keep running, I'll make sure he has nowhere left to hide."
Seeing her aggressive demeanor, Andrew frowned. "You're not exactly a match for him, are you? Third on the Titan List, and he's a swordsman at that. Plus, Swordhaven Keep guards the borders of the nation with an overwhelming presence. What exactly are you planning to use against Alfredo right now?"
Sheena replied coldly, "What else? I'll fight with everything I've got. In martial arts, if you don't advance, you fall behind. I've been stuck at the first stage of the martial emperor for almost two years now. If I don't break through soon, I'm going to be in serious trouble."
Andrew said nothing more. Even he admired Sheena's talent. Once you stepped into the level of martial emperor, there were five levels to climb.
These five represented the true stages of mastery. And beyond the fifth, one could ascend to the heavens themselves.
That meant becoming a martial god, the ultimate peak of martial arts.
As for how strong a martial god really was, Andrew honestly had no clear idea. Even at his peak as a martial emperor, he had never faced one head-on.
At that level, martial gods had long become reclusive, hidden from the world.
Of the few alive today, the one who shook Andrew the most was the one sitting in Chetvine at this very moment: The National Advisor of Holtrien!
Thinking of him, Andrew's eyes turned cold.
The National Advisor had never treated him or Reginald kindly. Andrew was sure that many of the hidden schemes against them carried that old man's shadow. But right now, he was nowhere near strong enough to face the National Advisor directly and demand answers.
…
Two days later, Andrew's injuries had healed enough that they no longer affected his daily activities.
At that moment, news spread that Ezekiel was preparing to return home.
Ezekiel's attendants, two cold and beautiful Soryan women, came to the Lloyd family estate to find Andrew.
"Mr. Beckett wishes to see you one last time, Mr. Lloyd."
Hearing this, Ezekiel slowly closed his eyes.
"Drive," he ordered softly.
The Sorya convoy immediately pulled away from Chetvine.
Ezekiel remained silent in the car. It was not until they had driven beyond Chetvine's borders that he suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood.
The entire interior of the car was splattered with blood and bloody foam.
The two Soryan women were horrified and screamed in unison, "Mr. Beckett!"
Ezekiel coughed violently, his body convulsing as if his organs were about to tear themselves apart. After a while, his breathing gradually steadied, and then he laughed.
His laughter was shrill, filled with hatred and despair. "Why didn't you kill me? Andrew, why didn't you just kill me?"
The two Soryan women sobbed in grief, clutching their young master.
Ezekiel straightened his back, his teeth clenched, blood slowly trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Once I return home, I'll request execution!"

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