Chapter 55 Croc

The battle in Endless Moor was covered in blood. Hundreds of men and monsters bashed against each other to gain dominance. The weak ducked away, hiding under a wagon, praying not to be taken away. Their prayers were mostly unanswered.

"Cawk!" The bird grabbed a magic bull, claws piercing through its skin, and took it to the sky.

The strength of the bird was enough for it to pull the magic bull and the wagon to the sky. A man made the mistake of grabbing the wheel. He released his hand and fell. Screaming and waving his hand wildly as he dropped to his death.

Balmar cut the neck of a beast, blood spurted to his helmet. His vision was filled with blood before he wiped it. Suddenly, a bigger croc clawed its way to him, roaring. It had bigger claws and teeth than the rest. The beast seemed to recognize him as a leader as he didn't care about the other Prime Soldiers. Or maybe it was just his feeling.

Balmar leaped forward, shocked by the amount of power he used. He was like a blur of white before he slammed his feet to the monster's face.

He landed, rolled, then stabbed its neck. It was a quick kill. Almost every beast would die if it got its neck cut. Humans too.

A squad of crocs surrounded him. They circled him around. One eye locked on him. Balmar prepared his stance, his eyes moved left and right. These beasts were not dumb. How could a beast coordinate their attacks like this?

The monsters charged.

Balmar snapped forward, blade above his head, and swept down, cutting the mouth of the monsters, before he spun and slashed.

The monsters roared as their front claws fell off. There were seven monsters surrounding him. Three had both of their front claws cut, the other three only had one left, and the last one only got a slight cut.

The crocs could still move without their front claws. The rocky surface was bloody as they dragged their cut feet. Truly an anomaly. Truly a worthy beast.

"Balmar!" Goras called out.

Balmar reached out with his free hand. A sword landed in it. He tightened his grip on both swords, using a stance he saw one of the cultivators use. He clashed them, creating a ringing squeal before he charged toward one of the monsters.

The rest attacked him from all directions. From the side, a giant-open mouth with serrated teeth chomped him. Balmar slid under, whipping his sword and cutting off the lower side of its mouth.

A giant, scaled claw filled his vision. He lowered the swords and pushed upward, cutting the paw in two. Around him were screams of beasts and men. The occasional shooting was still there. The Prime Soldiers had a hard time reloading their weapons with all the birds hunting the squires.

He had to kill these beasts first before taking care of that.

The monster's legs made a grinding noise against stone as the monster struck.

Balmar leaped on top of its head, driving both swords to each eye. He pulled them out immediately, jumping away as another croc attacked him.

There were six monsters left. His chest went up and down and he could smell the odor of his own sweat. The armor felt heavier now. Has his stamina run out? He looked at the battery screen. No. The battery was about to dry.

Curses! He had to kill these beasts and get a battery or else his armor would die.

Balmar gritted his teeth and charged. He didn't care to dodge or slip away. Forward. Attack. He had to finish this quick. Drawing his left hand behind, he pushed it forward and released the sword. The sword spun forward instead of flying straight like how he expected it.

This armor almost made him forget that he was merely a norm. To copy the move of a cultivator was a bad decision.

The clumsily thrown sword hit the monster and stuck on its scale. That wasn't a proper throw and yet it did its job. He had to praise the blacksmith when he returned.

He held one sword with two hands. He moved with incredible speed and drove the swords through its neck. He failed.

The beast bit on his sword and locked it with its jaw. It lifted him, vision blurring, then slammed him to the ground. He was knocked upward a few meters above the ground after impact.

Balmar pushed the ground, armor cracking, and some of the layers fell off.

Blood and sweat flowed to his lips. Salty and sweet.

Just the way I love my meat.

Balmar fumbled for a BC-79 from the fallen soldier. He aimed as the croc came running towards him. "I'm going to eat you after this!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The recoil cracked his armor even more. For the first time, he felt a vibration from the weapon and it shook his bone deep. More layers of his armor fell off.

The monsters were helpless under the barrage of bullets. They roared one last time before their heads were punched with holes.

Three down.

Now, for another three. Balmar turned to the side. Three crocs charged toward him with their arrow-like mouth.

He pulled the trigger, but it only made clicking sounds. It ran out of bullets.

The beast opened its mouth, tilted it, and crunched him.

Balmar extended his hand. Holding the jaw from closing. His arms were in pain. Armors cracked even more. He trembled inside the armor, and the pressure increased with every second.

Blood came out of his nose and lips. His muscles feel strained. He felt like dying from all the pain he endured.

He screamed. His eyes turned bloodshot. His stamina depleted and his body became weak, but he refused to give in. His men showed brave valor today, he didn't want to show his weakness to them. As a leader of the Man Hunter, Balmar refused to give up.

His sight turned blurry. His consciousness was at the end of the line. His life... was at risk.