The moment Raymond heard the agonized scream of the Red-Eyed Crows’ leader, he knew it was time to stop holding back.
Swish!
Before the leader could react, Raymond’s blade flashed through the dimly lit room, severing its head in a single, clean stroke. The sickening thud of the severed head hitting the floor was quickly followed by a crimson geyser erupting from its neck, splattering the bed in deep scarlet.
The space was cramped, suffocating. The Red-Eyed Crows, creatures known for their aerial prowess, were like caged beasts, their movements sluggish and uncoordinated on the ground. Raymond had exploited this perfectly. His ambush had been ruthless, decisive. The leader of the Red-Eyed Crows had died before it could even grasp what had happened.
Yet, Raymond hadn’t just killed it, he had made it suffer first.