SURROUNDED BY BEASTS

PERILOUS LANDS, ANTHONY.

Anthony slashed out at the claw that narrowly missed his face, and more blood splashed at him. He was holding a pair of daggers, fighting like his life depended on it while executing all the techniques he learnt from the old man. No, his life depended on it. Defeating the horde of hell's beasts was the only way to escape the entrapment.

Anthony's body was covered with different colors of liquid; a mix of his blood, monsters blood, and liquids from their corpses. His long hair looked disheveled, and sweat was running down the length of his body. On his back was a diagonal slash, showing four claws. The claws tore through the three layers of his clothes and then grazed his skin. That one slash would have done him in, but luckily he was vigilant, and quickly avoided it, making it not to slash in as deeply as it should.