The muscular man did not attack immediately. Instead of charging in aggressively as expected, he moved to the side, his steps heavy yet measured. His eyes never once left Viola. Though his build resembled that of a brawler who relied solely on brute strength, his actions suggested something different—caution.
His gaze was fixed on a thin slash mark across his chest, a wound that might seem insignificant but was enough to make him think twice. How fast had that attack been? How deep could the wound have been if he had made a mistake? He knew that even the smallest error could lead to defeat.