"Ahh!"
Roman thrust his sword forward, only to freeze against his will. No, he wasn't controlled. It was just that the tip of his sword couldn't go further with Abel stopping it with one finger! Blood dripped from Abel's index, making Roman's throat dry up unnaturally.
His throat bobbed as his grip trembled. "Stop..." he whispered with a shaking and rasped voice.
His mind was yelling at him not to succumb to the blood's aroma that smelled so appetizing. But his stomach continued to grumble and his throat and mouth dried up like a desert. He was hungry and thirsty from all that nonstop fighting. His eyes glowed, glinting dangerously at the person at the other end of the sword.
"You are right, Your Highness." Abel broke the thick silence between them with a light tone. "I initially planned to fight whoever wins, since I do not have a plan to let anyone go. However, you were quite... interesting. Therefore, I changed my mind."
