As Bailey spoke, he raised his hand. Another sword flew from the wall into his hand.
Everyone unconsciously stepped back, making way for the duel in the middle of the dance floor.
It had to be said, Jones was truly unpopular. Among the guests, even those who didn't know him were at least distant relatives. Yet, it seemed no one intended to intervene. More accurately, everyone was ready to see him get beaten up.
A seventy-year-old member of the Blood Clan challenging a one-hundred-and-thirty-year-old, whether in terms of physical strength or magic power, had no chance of winning. This was common sense. Moreover, the opponent was Jones, a prominent figure in his generation.
Aunt Sarah had already turned her face away, not watching.
Dora was scared out of her wits.
As for Susan, she couldn't help but cheer for Bailey in her heart.
The two duelists held their swords, staring at each other, slowly pacing around the dance floor.
