A sword was plunged into his chest forming a pool of blood underneath him. As he gasped for breath, his life waned with each passing moment.
Compared to him, Blake who was bathed in the blood of his enemy that formed a crimson mist that swirled around him like a shroud of death, looked extremely fornlorn and solitary.
And although his body was equally battered and bruised, his armour rent asunder by Marshall Cavalier's powerful attacks he stood standing with laboured breaths. His figure which stood straight as a sword refused to budge down even at this moment.
The observing allies and enemies alike felt a sense of dread and fear as they watched him slowly finish off his opponent. His eyes which burned with a fierce intensity, reflecting the pure ruthlessness of his soul as he cut down his enemy without mercy thus carving his name into the annals of history of the kingdom.
