The Legend Of The Swordsman

The battlefield was quiet now, the last of the monsters lying defeated at Dante’s feet. The elite students, many of whom had been struggling to stay alive just moments before, stared at him with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Elijah’s jaw tightened as he forced himself to stand tall, trying to mask the sting of his pride. He could feel the weight of Aria’s gaze, and his heart sank as he realized she hadn’t taken her eyes off Dante since he had stepped forward.

Dante sheathed his sword, barely acknowledging the onlookers as he turned to leave. To him, this was just another fight—a simple task that hadn’t required his full strength.

Elijah, unable to contain his frustration, stepped forward. “You think you’re something special, don’t you?” His voice was laced with bitterness.

Dante turned, his gaze calm and unbothered. “I just did what needed to be done.”

Elijah’s hands clenched, electricity sparking at his fingertips. “You may be strong, but you’re still a swordsman. Without magic, yo
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