Alan didn't respond to the provocation.
Instead, he silently shifted the sacred sword-staff into his left hand and charged forward once more.
Though his right arm was still recovering from the earlier clash and couldn't be used effectively for now, he remained unfazed. After all, his opponent's right arm was similarly disabled—and Alan was banking precisely on exploiting this temporary gap in combat readiness.
Whizz!
The sacred sword-staff sliced through the air with a high-pitched shriek, a sonic crack trailing in its wake like a whip.
However, Ares made no move to dodge or block. He simply stood there—calm, grounded, and unnervingly still—as if he intended to take the full brunt of the strike head-on.
"That's suspicious…"
A fleeting instinctual thought surfaced in Alan's mind. Something felt off. But by that point, his weapon had already been thrust forward with full force. There was no room—or time—for hesitation.
