Where in this world could there be a more suitable sparring partner than one's own father, the Marquis Gransham?
After all, in using the Steel Eagle Family's spell power, without a doubt, my father is the strongest.
However...
Accompanied by a streak of blood-red spell power, Imre grimaced in pain and took a step back.
Too strong, truly too strong!
The gap between their strengths was larger than he'd imagined.
Although Imre always mocked that the Marquis Gransham was his "teacher," in reality, the Marquis Gransham showed no rcy during combat; each move targeted Imre's kill spots as if he wouldn't stop until Imre was dead.
This cruel fight truly inspired fear.
To be frank, if not for the mbers of the Silver Guard Army subtly interfering with his attack route during the lee, even Imre, who had undergone the Federation Star plan, dreaming of defeating this guy would still be futile.
To speak without rcy, he should have been beaten down long ago.
Yet, under such circumstances, Imre still held strong beliefs, blocking the sword striking toward him again and again, ti after ti.
"This ti the situation is different, Father!"
This ti, at the very mont when Imre swung his sword, the scattered rays flickered with a cruel bloody light.
One strike, two strikes, three strikes...
He barely paid attention to his own injuries, exchanging wounds for wounds, and in the flesh-tumbling chaos, instantly penetrated Marquis Gransham's defenses.
Marquis Gransham backed up half a step in pain, and the spell power on his body surged like a tidal wave toward Imre, intending to temporarily distance himself.
But in the next mont, through the blood-colored tides, Imre forcefully erged...
"Father..."
With a hoarse voice, as if roaring his last words.
A sword light flared, the sharp blade instantly piercing through Marquis Gransham's body. Amid his wide-eyed surprised gaze, heavily wounded Imre's face revealed a bleak smile.
"This is the last ti."
In an instant, crimson blood covered the space between father and son.
For a mont, it was impossible to tell whose blood it was, the Marquis Gransham's or Imre's own.
Having completed a revenge, Imre seed to have lost strength; although his hands still tightly gripped the sword, he maintained a forward-leaning posture, like a puppet that had lost its energy.
He did not feel the pleasure of a great revenge.
At this mont, Imre felt only endless emptiness and regret.
All along, he adhered to the Gransham Family's tradition, active at the frontline of battles, and deep inside, although he didn't say it, he had so thoughts about his father choosing to leave the ranks of warriors and heading towards the bureaucratic system.
Father and son, although not completely irreconcilable, were far from being in agreent.
But why?
Upon discovering his father's betrayal, his first feeling was not anger but grievance.
Yes, that day, assisted by his father, when the gates of Gransham Territory opened wide, and he struggled pinned to the ground, was the real reason why he was so furious.
Why leave him behind...
The real aning was, why not take along?
The pain of a child abandoned by his father was what made Imre Gransham so angry.
And now, everything is over.
However, he seems not to feel happy.
The only thing he could feel was the emptiness spreading, as if soone had dug a hollow in his heart, and when emotions rose, they all poured out.
"Stop struggling, let's talk one last ti."
Looking at his father struggling on the ground, Imre's bleak expression couldn't be concealed.
Even when pierced by Imre's sword, the Marquis Gransham's body kept struggling.
His hand raised and lowered, several tis, until Imre finally couldn't resist and held it tightly, saying, "Old man, don't struggle too much before you die, go peacefully."
Just as he said this, he suddenly felt a slow movent from his palm.
If it were an ordinary person, he might think Marquis Gransham was desperately struggling.
But Imre, trained and undoubtedly a forr Silver Guard Army, with sharp judgnt, imdiately realized it was a coded authorization.
The authorization was for himself.
[Make into Bloodline Essence, transplant my eyes, tell the governor everything you see]
For a mont, the unprecedented absurd emotion left Imre with an incredulous expression. Fortunately, he controlled it well and quickly suppressed this emotion.
Only a very few within the Silver Guard Army understand encoded authorization.
Or rather, this was never intended for the general Silver Guard Army, only those bearing special nas would have the chance to learn this.
Imre...
He had always been a child worth parental pride.
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