Holy Warrior

The entire forest grew dimmer as the black aura coming from the man filled it like paint spilling into the world. Screams of rage and cries of injustice filled with ears, making their blood boil with anger and fear of its source. The man with black robes stood there, gazing into them with unmoving eyes. It sent chills down their spines.

Every instinct these men had kicked in, killing all illusions of emerging as heroes for killing the demon. Vesper promised those with merits its blood, which would grant them unimaginable wealth, even if it was shared.

"We are not their match," said one man with a face covered in white hair, clearly not a human. He had multiple joints in his arms, which cowered in fear as he stepped back. "My clan will be abandoning this battle."