Afternoon.
Battle Forest.
Critic-Ishire.
***********
Theodore joined the battle picking another enemy to fight.
Sunlight barely pierced through the thick canopy of the dense part of the forest, casting eerie shadows on the ground.
The air is tense, charged with the anticipation of an imminent clash. Conan, faced his opponent, a burly man with a menacing grin, he held a wickedly curved blade.
The two men circle each other, their eyes locked in a deadly gaze. Conan's years of battle experience are evident in his poised stance and the determined set of his jaw. His opponent, though less experienced, he radiated raw aggression and confidence with magic presence Conan was aware of.
