In the gloomily lit depths of the foreboding forest, Valerius, with his heart hammering like a war drum in his chest, was casting frantic, furtive glances over his shoulder.
As a result, there, in the midst of the forest's undergrowth and the whispering leaves, he saw it—a monstrous, barbed tongue, slicing through the air like a demonic whip, homing in on him like a lethal predator.
Could he dodge it?
It was a laughable notion. After all, the toad's tongue was like an arrow shot from the bow of fate, far too swift and relentless in its pursuit for a spirit warrior like him to dodge.
He knew he couldn't dodge it, but he was no ordinary man to cower in the face of doom. In this critical moment, his mind, as sharp as a blade, forged a plan and he made his body quickly act on it.
Block it! His inner warrior roared.
