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“Hey, it’s me?Lavan.”

The middle-aged man spoke, but Enkrid did not stop to think. When had he ever thought things through with his head?

He had come this far by following his instincts and chasing his dreams.

Enkrid swung his sword.

The blade rose, reflecting the light of the torch as it moved from below to above.

A dull thud echoed.

Yes, dull. It wasn’t sharp.

The blade, once known for its extreme sharpness, cleaved through the opponent’s arm slowly and without speed.

Lavan watched, feeling his arm being severed, but he could not avoid it, only watch as the pain hit.

“Ugh!”

A terrible scream echoed through the vast cave.

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