He could sense the anger in her whisper as she spoke.
She did not ask him whether he had the confidence to stand against the Bone Tempering Warrior or not. She did not question whether twelve Flesh Awakening Warriors were too many for one man to handle. She simply believed in whatever ability she held, believed that they would not die here today.
And truly...
Damian's gaze became firm and heavy.
The axe in his hands was grasped tighter, his knuckles whitening around the rough wooden haft as it actually caved in.
He had taken life earlier today after many summers had passed. The Butcher's Warriors had fallen to his spears in the village, their blood joining the blood of the Tribesmen they had killed.
But it was not the first time he had taken a life and bathed the Lands of Stone red, no matter how much he tried to forget and deny it.
The first time he did so was when he was ten summers old.
Right before he and Uncle Adam ran.
He remembered it still!
