The Bloodied Path to Freedom VII | Plans Set in Motion V

The elites launched their attack, engaging Seiya in a whirlwind of strikes. Their speed was undeniable, their coordination precise—yet, to Seiya, it was nothing more than a game. He moved effortlessly among them, toying with their attacks as if they were sluggish and predictable.

In a single, practiced motion, the trio closed in, propelling themselves forward with their abilities, intent on overwhelming him. Seiya swung his staff in retaliation, but just as the strike descended, one of the elites intercepted—his foot snapping upward, kicking Seiya's hand and forcing the staff from his grip.

The staff slipped from Seiya's grasp, tumbling through the air.

Seiya had seen the kick coming of course, but he didn't bother stopping it because he thought the kick wouldn't do much—a miscalculation because he underestimated that particular elite—the one with vitiligo.

"Eh?" Seiya exhaled, a hint of amusement in his voice.