Philip scoffed. “Just wait and see! I wouldn’t have saved Andrew for the grand finale if I wasn’t sure. You saw how I practically begged him on my knees. If Ezekiel had any chance of winning, I wouldn’t have gone that far.”
Luna hesitated before asking, “General Turman, why do you have such unwavering faith in Andrew?”
Philip smiled. “Because he’s never let me down, never let the military down, and never let Holtrien down. Luna, if I were you, I’d spend more time around Andrew. The more you get to know him, the more you’ll realize he’s not even human. Only someone who’s walked through fire and blades can be forged into unbreakable steel.”
Luna’s lips twitched. Philip’s comment about Andrew not being human was not an insult. In fact, it was the highest form of praise imaginable. Deep down, she was proud and confident in her own abilities.
Seeing her most respected mentor give Andrew such lofty praise made her a little unwilling to accept it. Nonetheless, that feeling quickly vanished. After all, she had already lost to Ezekiel, and Andrew was the one chosen for the final showdown. Besides, she had never actually fought him.
The moment Luna learned Andrew’s true identity, she knew she would never again feel that burning drive to surpass him. Gradually, she had discovered that all those competitive feelings had been replaced by something called tenderness.
It was a feeling strange to her, yet one she could not control.
At that moment, the big screen in the command room switched again.
Ezekiel and the stoic Isabelle were locked in fierce combat, their battle reaching a fever pitch.
Philip remarked admiringly, “Isabelle is going to go far.”
Luna’s expression remained grave. “But right now, she still isn’t a match for Ezekiel.”
Inside the Martial Tower, Isabelle had activated the Robertson family’s ultimate technique, the Awakened Reaper’s Wrath. Her arms and neck had turned crimson and black, with demonic energy swirling around her like a living aura of war.
Her petite frame darted through the air with lightning speed, and every strike landed with overwhelming force.
Ezekiel let out muffled grunts as he continuously retreated. Yet somehow, he remained undefeated, holding his ground through sheer defensive skill.
Isabelle’s assault had caught him off guard. She was the only opponent Waylon had not briefed him about before he left, so his lack of knowledge about her fighting style was clearly hampering his performance. Despite that, he still had not unleashed The Dragon’s Cyclone.
Meanwhile, Isabelle was already fighting at full strength. Her body twisted through the air with multiple direction changes. Her strikes targeted his head, neck, and lower body in rapid succession, hammering him with brutal precision.
Ezekiel was drenched in sweat, but his eyes remained resolute as he maintained an impenetrable defense. Occasionally, he used the natural defensive advantages of The Dragon’s Cyclone to create obstacles for Isabelle’s attacks, which meant the killing power of the Awakened Reaper’s Wrath had limited effect on him.
“You’re so annoying! Hiding and dodging like a damn coward. What kind of man are you?” Isabelle suddenly stopped, her face full of frustration. “Fine, I’m done. You win!”
Ezekiel remained on high alert. No one dared let their guard down when Isabelle could strike without warning at any moment.
“That’s enough. Even if you keep fighting, you’re not going to beat him.”
A lazy voice drifted from below along with approaching footsteps.
Andrew had arrived!
He added, “Besides, the guy just fought General Phelan and is still nursing injuries. Running into a stubborn martial artist like you? Of course, he had to play defense and wear you out.”