Chapter 89: Direwolf Butcher

Before it encases itself in ice once more, I press our advantage mercilessly.

The beast tries to regain its footing but I don't give it a chance.

I leap onto its back and my blade plunges into its side, slicing through fur and flesh with utmost efficiency. Blood gushes from the wound only to stain both my sword and armor, but I don't care nor relent. 

The blood of my enemy is not something a proper warrior should be disgusted with. Instead, the knowledge that I spilled the life force of this mighty creature fills me with utmost pride.

The Direwolf thrashes violently, but I dance around its desperate attacks using what my battle partner would title as my 'sexy acrobatic moves'. 

My movements become a blur of calculated strikes and evasions. Each one is designed to inflict maximum damage at minimum risk. I slash at its flanks to severe tendons and muscles and render its powerful limbs useless.