Sweat and dust mingled on Archer's skin, but his violet eyes burned with determination. He met the fiery gazes of his foes as the clash of wills and strength shook the very ground beneath them.
While this happened, he thought as excitement welled up inside him. 'These two are strong! Now I'll have people to train with who can match me for some time.'
Moments later, the Demons rushed toward him as he started defending himself from their combined strikes. The ground trembled under the ferocity of the clash, the air thick with the scent of scorched earth.
Archer was a conduit of raw power, dancing between Nemuia's claw strikes and the emperor's earth-shattering punches. His fists moved with purpose, each strike causing either Demon to grunt in pain.
'At least my hits are hurting them,' he mused, dodging the older man's shattering kick.
