Loading...
"You've got some serious fists, I'll give you that," Caron said as he wiped blood from his mouth.
Srom chuckled and replied, his tusks stained red, "Says the human who hits like a warhammer. Are you really a human? Among orcs, there'd be barely a handful who could take you on."
"Well, I had a bit of help from mana," Caron admitted with a grin.
"As did I," Srom said. "If not for the blessings of the primal spirits, my skull would've cracked open long ago."
A human and an orc, both soaked in blood from head to toe, spoke like old comrades. Their appearance was gruesome—flesh bruised, bones likely fractured—but their exchange was warm and strangely brotherly.
"Damn, it's been a while since I've had a fight like that," Caron said, rolling his shoulder. "Feels great."
"Hmm. You're the first warrior to take that many of my punches and stay standing," Srom replied with a grin.
"I've got a friend named Utula—he's a giant. You both have similar personalities," Caron said.
"A giant? I've heard of them. They're towering warriors with great pride," Srom said.
"Maybe one day we should all meet up for a good old-fashioned beatdown—" Caron began, but was cut off.
Smack!
"Argh!"
"Shut up, Warrior," Seria said with a furious glare as she slapped both their backs hard enough to draw blood. Her palms, reinforced with holy power, landed like thunderbolts.
Caron and Srom coughed up blood at the same time.
"Damn… the Saintess' slap hurts like hell…" Srom groaned.
"Seria, are you trying to kill us?" Caron wheezed.
"Oh, I save your lives and this is what I get? Should I just let you die?" Seria snapped.
This could've...
Unlock free chapters every day
Bookmark your novel and never lose track of your progress
Share your thoughts with your favorite translator in the comments.
