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The duel had barely begun when, only a few minutes in, the gathered chieftains expressed their thoughts with a heavy silence. They had known Bulls for years—some for decades—and they knew well just how terrifying, swift, and ferocious his axe strikes became when he unleashed Fury.
A single blow could crush the massive head of a sandworm. A troll would be split clean in half before its regeneration could even kick in. Even an ogre might hold out for a few moments, but ten, twenty swings later, it would be reduced to minced flesh.
And yet—
“Wow, that’s incredible,” said Alice, the chieftain of the Lepus Tribe, her long rabbit ears twitching in awe.
The Lepus’ special ability was hyper sense. With her vision magnified several times over, she was just barely able to track Karen’s movements.
“She’s not just fast—her movements are delicate, precise. She hasn’t touched the ground once since landing on Bulls’ axe. Even I’d probably fail three times out of ten trying that.”
“So Lady Hati’s confidence wasn’t misplaced,” another chieftain muttered.
“And that female is only the vanguard. The male said to be the King’s fellow disciple must be stronger still. The war faction should be ready for another loss,” added Stangdal, the Centaur chieftain, clicking his tongue.
He muttered, “Dammit, at that speed my spear wouldn’t even graze her. I don’t care if Bulls takes a hit, but honestly, even if it were me out...
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