PREVIEW
... elum wasn’t passive.
He pressed.
Each swing measured, calculated—not flailing, not hopeful. He used his shield like a second blade, parrying Allen’s wild lunges and sending pulses of divine energy through the floor.
Allen laughed as their blades locked again.
"Not bad, Grandpa. You practice this in church?"
Caelum didn’t speak.
Just shoved.
Hard.
Allen slid back half a step.
Eyes narrowed.
He lunged again—low slash a ...
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