A handsome young man with silver hair and long eyelashes created a gust of wind with his fan. Then, the aura emitted from the fan transformed into numerous blasts of shadow energy and scorched the ground. Opposing him was a middle-aged man, who was a typical drunkard—a flushed red face and sleepy, unfocused eyes. The bottle hanging from his waist made it clear he was undeniably a drunk.0

However, the greatsword in his hand was no ordinary weapon. It was a massive black greatsword, as tall as a grown man, and he swung it in its sheath. The tremendous wind pressure from his strike shattered the shadow energy. 0

Each time they clashed, the air seemed to tear apart, and the earth overturned. The match was so close that it didn’t seem like it was going to end. 0

At that moment, the drunkard took a step back and said, “I’ll give you one last chance.”0

Holding his massive black greatword with one hand, he pointed it at the man, dead serious, and raised his voice.0

“You need to admit that the apple pie at Joyray’s Tavern is the best!”0

The young man narrowed his eyes, covering his mouth with his fan.0

“With the money for apple pie, you’d be better off getting a warm, hearty lamb stew instead.”6

“Gah! I can’t stand it anymore! I’ll split your head open!”0

Enraged again, the drunkard gripped his massive greatsword with both hands and swung it like a wooden stick. In response, the young man deflected the black...0