Gritting his fangs, Kl'Drog fixed his predatory gaze upon us, his vertical pupils locked in place.
I mean, let's be real, he must have already realized the futility of his chances for escape.
Unless he chooses to fight us—well, fight with Leo specifically—there's simply no possible way for him to break free from this situation.
But then again, fighting Leo would be comparable to a death sentence.
After all, he was there when Leo casually slaughtered his comrades without even lifting a finger.
How could he even think about standing against such overwhelming might? But, as I said earlier, he had no other choice.
With resolute determination etched on his beast-like face, Kl'Drog summoned a long silver crossguard sword into his grasp.
Suddenly, spikes sprouted from the hilt of the sword, impaling Kl'Drog's grip, and in the next moment, its silver blade turned a deep shade of crimson.
