Facing the Blood Clan man's loud roar, Demitrija didn't say anything. Instead, he held his sword and continued to advance towards the Blood Clan.
As the gap between them narrowed.
The bloodthirsty man could no longer suppress his longing for fresh blood.
His pace quickened from a walk to a run.
A bloodthirsty, eerie smile appeared at the corner of his mouth as he anticipated the forthcoming feast.
He did not take the oncoming Lizardman seriously.
The weapon in his hand was a shortsword, renowned for its speed and versatility, while the towering Lizardman wielded a heavy sword.
In such terrain, he held all the advantage.
The long-awaited sweet taste of blood was indeed alluring.
The bloodthirsty man sprinted towards his prey, skidding to a halt when the two of them were just three meters apart.
Swish!
The shortsword in his hand stabbed upward from below, aiming for the Lizardman's lower jaw.