The battle continued to rage across the arena.
Wind howled violently.
The battlefield was littered with deep scars from Khan's relentless attacks.
Stone pillars had been sliced apart.
Massive trenches crisscrossed the arena floor.
Dust swirled through the air.
For several minutes, Khan maintained complete offensive pressure.
His techniques flowed one after another without pause.
Every attack was aimed to kill.
Every movement carried deadly intent.
The spectators watched with growing tension.
Some were beginning to understand just how dangerous the former prince truly was.
Had he not betrayed Lechia, there was little doubt he would have become one of the kingdom's greatest warriors.
But despite the ferocity of his assault, one thing remained unchanged.
Lucas had yet to suffer a single injury.
Not one cut.
Not one bruise.
Not one scratch.
His movements remained calm.
Controlled.
Patient.
Almost casual.
The contrast only made Khan increasingly frustrated.
