The grounded black man, missing his attack, swiftly shifted his dagger to target Greedy Wolf’s other leg.
But before the blade could land, Greedy Wolf leaped into the air, avoiding the strike yet again.
Another miss.
As the man tried to rise, Greedy Wolf’s heavy boot came crashing down from above, slamming into his back with a resounding thud.
“Argh!” A pained cry escaped the man’s lips.
The sheer force of that stomp seemed to shatter his ribcage. The sound of cracking bones echoed as the man spat a mouthful of blood, his dagger slipping helplessly from his hand under the crushing pressure.
Greedy Wolf looked down at him with disdain. “Trash like you? On the battlefield, I kill your kind like swatting flies. You dare run wild on Seclela’s soil? That’s an insult to my homeland!”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out two short blades. “Today, you’ll bleed on Seclela’s land.”
With that, Greedy Wolf drove one blade down toward the man, who barely managed to let out a wheeze. Seeing his comrade in peril, the other man-bloodied but undeterred-scrambled to his feet. Babbling something in his native tongue, he charged like a storm, a wild determination gleaming in his eyes.
He moved like a black whirlwind, his momentum unrelenting as he closed in on Greedy Wolf.
But Greedy Wolf, ever composed, retracted his blades and leaped into the air once more. Spinning mid-flight, he landed a devastating kick to the man’s back, sending him sprawling face-first into the ground like a ragdoll.
“Ugh!”
The man landed with a sickening crash, his body slamming into the dirt as Greedy Wolf landed with the precision of a predator.
He knelt on the other man’s broken ribs, eliciting another pained scream and a fresh spray of blood.
Grabbing the man by his head, Greedy Wolf shot a cold glare at the opposing the General. “He who dares to provoke Seclela shall face utter destruction!”
Without hesitation, Greedy Wolf drew his blade and, with a single swift motion, slit the man’s throat.
The once-mighty warrior was now lifeless, blood pouring from his neck in a gruesome arc. It was a clean kill, swift and merciless.
The sight was akin to slaughtering a helpless chick, the man unable to even put up a fight.
The General froze, his stoic expression faltering ever so slightly.
Greedy Wolf had locked eyes with him while executing the kill-a blatant act of provocation.
Who knows what he was thinking at that moment? Perhaps it was simply the realization that, under someone else’s roof, one has no choice but to bow their head.
The General’s silence betrayed his discomfort, though his face remained unreadable.
Greedy Wolf, unyielding, turned toward the second man who was struggling to get back up.
“You’re all going to die here,” Greedy Wolf declared with a smirk.
In a flash, he hurled his blade, which buried itself directly into the man’s forehead with a sickening thud.
The man, who had turned his head at the wrong moment, didn’t even have time to scream. The knife pierced his skull like a hot knife through butter, leaving a stream of blood trickling down his face.
His lifeless body crumpled to the ground.
Greedy Wolf approached the corpse, pulling the blade from the man’s head. The blood dripped steadily onto the soil of Seclela, staining it red.
The entire display was seamless, brutal, and awe-inspiring.
Turning his gaze back to the General, Greedy Wolf spoke with venom dripping from every word: “Now, it’s your turn.”
The General’s face finally hardened. For the first time, he seemed to grasp the magnitude of the threat he faced.
Still, he held his ground, tightening his grip on his blade. “You’ve sparked this war,” he growled.
Greedy Wolf sneered. “And what of it? You came to Seclela to stir up trouble, to assassinate our leaders. What did you expect? That we’d roll over and let you trample us? This is my land! You think you can strut around and do as you please? Today, I’ll teach you that Seclela is no place for the likes of you. If you want a war, I’ll see you on the battlefield!”
Without waiting for a reply, Greedy Wolf hurled his blade directly at the General.
The man reacted swiftly, deflecting the blade with his own weapon.
The knife clanged off his blade and embedded itself into the marble wall behind him, its force strong enough to pierce deep into the stone.
“Are you going to fight, then?” the General asked, stepping back cautiously.
Greedy Wolf let out a chilling laugh. “Oh, I’ll fight. But I never said I’d let you leave unscathed. I’ll carve thirteen scars into your body to remind you never to cross Seclela again.”
With that, Greedy Wolf lunged forward, his aura as fierce and overwhelming as a tiger’s charge.
The General braced himself, stomping one foot into the ground, causing the marble to crack under the pressure. Blade in hand, he stood ready to meet the charge.
These were two warriors armed with short blades-who knew what kind of sparks their clash would ignite?
In the world of cold weapons, a true fighter earns their respect. When both combatants rely on such weapons, the battle reveals their raw and unfiltered skill.
Even in an era dominated by flying bullets and nuclear power, when it comes to pure savagery and precise killing, nothing beats a blade-a cold weapon.
No matter the outcome, the onlooking elders were already bracing themselves for what promised to be an epic showdown, like two planets colliding in space.
The two men clashed in a spectacular display of skill.
Greedy Wolf was wielding dual blades-one of them had already been hurled into the wall, leaving him with just the remaining one in hand! It was a razor-sharp dagger-a blade that had seen countless battles and spilled rivers of blood.
In no time, the sharp blade was right in front of the General!
The General parried his first strike, their blades clanging together with a flash of sparks.
Steel met steel in a contest of raw power and deadly precision.
The battle had only just begun, and it promised to be nothing short of legendary.