Bab 109: The Infernal Ritual

With renewed fury and with his enemy identified, his swords flashed in silver and dark arcs at the cultists charging towards him erratically.

The ground, sleek with blood, splashed on his greaves, and another adversary collapsed with each step he took.

The pungent scent of blood flooded his nostrils, and the clangour of metal colliding with metal rattled in his ears. Yet, nothing would stop him, not when another bastard threatened his subjects' lives.

Even though he knew that he looked like a savage with his bloodshot eyes and the furious grimace distorting his lips and cheeks, he didn't care. The crushing frustration imposed on his shoulders and heart had to find a way out. And what better way than through the heat of combat? Therefore, he slashed, slashed, and slashed again, cursing the demon kings and the gods, those shameless bastards, with each vicious strike he delivered.