Chapter 271
Meanwhile, in another part of the battlefield, the tide had shifted. Two figures were locked in brutal, hand-to-hand combat.
One had long black hair, braided into four thick ropes that whipped violently through the air with every movement. His opponent also bore long black hair, though looser, and a faint scar ran across his cheek like a permanent reminder of bloodshed.
The clash between them was fierce, vicious strikes, sharp counters, a dance of violence where neither gave an inch. It wasn't a friendly duel. No, this was death sparring. Every move aimed to kill, every strike sharpened with intent. But they weren't looking for a cheap shot. No tricks. No shortcuts. They wanted the kill clean, brutal, and undeniable.
After a few savage exchanges, they finally broke apart, both taking a step back for a moment's breath.
