C523 Draw
Concede?!
Moshe Hardy's long sword halted abruptly, a mere three feet from Saitou Zuozhu.
Frustration welled up inside him, so intense he felt like spitting blood. This treacherous scoundrel was conceding now?!
"I concede," Saitou Zuozhu declared with a cold huff.
"But don't think I'm conceding because I'm weaker than you."
"It's your inner armor that's forcing my hand."
"Without that armor