Hades had expected something like this, even though he'd tried to settle things without blood.
That's why he dragged Kalwank into this bunker—so if things went south, Alazar would have nowhere to run.
The place was cramped, especially for someone over seven feet tall like Alazar. Fortunately, Hades had fought in tighter spaces before, down in the choking dark of mines. He knew how to move where there was no room to breathe.
The two hunters glared at each other, bloodlust thick in the air.
"I might've run if you were someone worth the trouble," Alazar sneered. "But you? You're nothing but a shrimp."
He drew the second dagger strapped to his side and twirled it easily in his hand. "So? Are you the so-called Chaos Heir? If you are, shouldn't you be ashamed of being this weak?"
Hades let out a low chuckle. "And what about you? A man hunted by three nations, rotting in a hole, living soft while your family starves outside."
"You think that'll shake me?" Alazar growled.
