"Who the hell is that man?"
"Is he even real?"
"No… no way. I don't think he's human at all!"
The soldiers and knights could only stare, their minds blank as the battlefield turned into a charnel ground.
Broken bodies littered the earth, blood steamed in the cold air, and severed weapons lay scattered like discarded toys.
What they had just witnessed was not a fight—it was a one-sided massacre.
For several heartbeats, no one dared to speak.
Some clutched their weapons tighter, others forgot they were even holding them.
A few felt their knees weaken as a suffocating pressure settled in their chests.
Yet despite their shock, they were not ignorant men.
White Bone City had stood for many years, and in all its long, brutal history, only one person matched the scene before their eyes.
"The Handsome Butcher…" someone whispered, his voice trembling as if saying the name aloud might summon death itself.
"It has to be him."
"Yes… there's no mistake."
