Chapter 238 Is This The End?

• The wind roared across the wide grassland, tossing blades of green like waves on a restless sea. The Mountain’s massive frame shifted with a grinding sound as it stepped forward, each footfall sinking slightly into the turf. Without warning, its forearm cracked and twisted, the stony surface splitting and reshaping into a jagged black sword. It swung it once, the ground trembling beneath the weight alone.
• Ramsay planted himself, gripping his ancestral blade. Its glow was calm, steady—but silent. No help came from it. Every movement, every instinct, was his own.
• The Mountain lunged first, swinging the black sword in a downward arc faster than its enormous size should allow. Ramsay twisted aside, boots ripping grass and earth as he slashed in return. Steel kissed stone with a shower of sparks; the black sword barely trembled, leaving only a mark on the ground.