The clash of weapons echoed across the battlefield, drowned out by the deafening roar of war. Rakahn, breathing heavily, watched his opponent through the veil of dust and blood.
Each breath burned his lungs. He remained still, focused, his fingers tightly wrapped around the grips of his khopeshs, ready to strike again.
The humanoid demon, with its crocodile head, roared with relentless fury. Its yellow eyes burned with visceral hatred.
Its powerful jaws, lined with sharp fangs, opened and closed with a menacing clatter. Its scaled skin glistened under the setting sun.
The morningstar, heavy and spiked, fell like a storm of destruction. It carved deep furrows into the earth and shattered rocks, each impact shaking the ground.
Rakahn, with both khopeshs in hand, narrowly dodged a brutal blow. His muscles were taut, every fiber of his body vibrating with tension.
