A soft sigh echoed in Dirge's ears.
The voice was magnetic, not betraying much age, yet it carried a hint of world-weariness as if it had seen it all.
Eyes shut, she braced herself for the impending death, but the moment never came.
Tentatively, she opened her eyes.
A figure swiftly moved onto the stage, positioning itself between her and imminent danger.
Dressed in a black cloak with a fearsome mask covering his face, he exuded unmatched charisma.
With a single outstretched arm, he thwarted Wolf Prime's descending axe, effortlessly deflecting the powerful blow.
"Is this the Wolf Guild's typical modus operandi? Bullying the weak? Truly, have you no shame..." John's voice dripped with sarcasm.
Wolf Prime's eyes widened in disbelief, "Galewind? You dare intervene in our duel?"
John scoffed, "I simply can't stand scum like you who thrive on the weak. Do you have a problem with that?"
