Stab!
Ambrose stabbed his crimson shortsword through the skull of a fallen player and then pulled it out with a sickening squelch.
"Ah."
He wiped the blood off his face that was splattered on him after leaving behind corpses of players.
"Hey, you bastard!"
Ambrose turned around and saw an angry-faced archer holding a bow aimed directly at him.
His overcoat was already tattered and dirty brown, and his boots were leaking blood from the holes in them. It looked like he had gotten a wound on his foot from some kind of sharp object.
As he pulled back his string, the man released the arrow.
Ambrose smashed the arrow down from the air, and it shattered into a million pieces.
The archer then approached him and started firing arrows after arrows, but Ambrose was quick on his feet and smacked the arrows down to the ground.
"Hmph." The archer dropped his bow to the ground and pulled out a machete from his hidden sheath.
