"Clang!"
An iron scythe flashed a crescent blade light in mid-air, slicing past the side of a battle helmet, finding a gap in the chain armor of the Cold Crow Halberd Warrior. Although it absorbed the blade's shaft, it couldn't block the crescent-like tip of the flying scythe.
The tip of the flying scythe pierced right through the chain armor, snagging onto the shoulder of this Cold Crow Halberd Warrior.
Like a hooked claw, it dug into his muscles and bones until the blade tip lodged against his shoulder blade.
[-62]
A damage of dozens of points appeared, and the flying scythe, attached with a chain, was nailed into his body.
Yet the Cold Crow Halberd Warrior didn't even flinch; his face was as unyielding as a rock. Such a person either doesn't feel pain or has an immense tolerance for it.
He reached out with one hand to grab the flying scythe, intending to pull it out of his shoulder just as the Blue Owl Cavalryman sped toward the village's outskirts on his warhorse.
