Capítulo 389: The Bet

"Papa! Atelia is hungry!" The young thing exclaimed mournfully, her foxy ears drooping downwards. 

Altair rustled her small head, lifting his eyes towards the bandits to the gnarled-faced man who had spoken words to his daughter. He pointed to him, commanding, "Cut off his arms and legs and leave him for the crows. The rest can just die." 

Therion and Alyssa bounded forward like a pack of wolves. Men screamed, thrown into chaos, as blood stained the earth. They fell like moths to the flames, begging and screaming for it to end. Some screamed for their mothers; others threw their fellow brothers into the crossfire in the hopes they could flee. It was all futile. 

If Alyssa was power, Therion was speed. He wielded a Vale Spear that tore through swords and daggers alike like hot butter. By the time anyone could blink, he was behind them, skewing their bodies without the slightest deviation or thought.