Just when they thought Max had been cornered, a sight unfolded before their eyes—one so extraordinary that it would etch itself into their memories forever.
A single, quiet sword strike.
Not a blinding flash of light, not a thunderous explosion—just a moment of unparalleled stillness, followed by an outcome that no one had anticipated.
Most could only catch faint glimpses of Max's strike—fleeting shadows of motion, too swift to comprehend fully. It was as though time had bent around the edge of his blade, rendering the act imperceptible to all but the most discerning eyes. That 'quiet sword,' so unassuming yet so absolute, descended with an elegance that belied its destructive power.
The result was instant and devastating. Arthur, who had seemed invincible moments ago, was reduced to fragments—his body cut into countless pieces, disintegrating into glowing particles of red light.