"AAaaarrggggHHHH!"
A terrifying scream came from one side of the battlefield, sending chills down the spines of everyone.
Drakhar, who was unfortunate enough to have found himself besieged by Ophir, the Blood Scythe King, knelt on the ground, his left arm severed, right eye blinded, chest opened with a large cut, and blood covering his entire body.
He had returned to his humanoid form after just 5 minutes of enduring the deadliest of attacks from Ophir.
"P-please, spare me... Please," he begged, looking at the approaching Primordial, the only Primordial of the Asura Race.
He knew with absolute certainty that winning against Ophir was impossible, so against his nature as an arrogant dragon, he started to plead.
"Oh, trust me, I would love to spare your life, but my hands are tired, so instead of begging me, it would be best if you begged my king instead," Ophir spoke with a grin before stabbing his spear into Drakhar's already injured eye.
"AaarrgghHHH!"
