Flint wasn't weak. He wasn't necessarily strong but he wasn't weak.
Yet-
"Argh-"
He was being thrown like a ragdoll, over and over again.
Each time, he got up, picked up his sword, and swung around but never connecting once.
Even with his swordplay, aura and everything, he wasn't a match. And the crushed hand wasn't really helping.
Amanda was in the sidelines, waiting, waiting for a chance.
A chance Flint had to make himself but at this rate, he was just going to get wiped and take her along with him.
"You're in there, I'd assume. If I die, you lose your shot," he spoke.
"No worries, if you die, I'll just take over that body," the answer came.
Grunting hard, "Asshole!" AXEL!
A solid slash, definitely connecting with the overlord's axe. "Asshole?" Alfred Torin mumbled. A big wide grin. He proceeded to shove Flint down on the ground, slamming his feet on that little guy's head.
