In Cloud Summit, Ignatius Leclair's punch was fierce and swift. Griffith Squire reflexively dodged, but still took a hit on the corner of his mouth.
Griffith Squire wasn't one to fear a fight. Just as he was about to roll up his sleeves, Ignatius Leclair had already resumed his trademark cold and impassive demeanor. Elegantly stepping back from the fight, he said icily, "Has no one taught you not to touch what belongs to others?"
Griffith Squire stretched his creaking joints, suppressing the bloodlust surging within him. With a cold smirk, he retorted, "Nice moves, Mr. Leclair. I've heard you trained under the renowned Master Swordsman Robert in Western swordsmanship. But in the face of modern weaponry, such flashy techniques should've been left behind long ago."
"To deal with you, they're more than enough," Ignatius replied flatly, lowering his gaze. "Your time is running out. If my people uncover the truth about your sister's background, the stakes will change entirely."
