The man with the club stepped back and his voice died in his throat as he saw Victor's sword go through Ed's chest.
The guard's body fell heavily to the ground, the keys to the warehouse gates still in his hand, while a trail of blood marked the path where he collapsed.
Victor, with a cold, implacable expression on his face, removed the sword from Ed's body, letting the blood drip down the sharp blade. With the sword still dripping, he finally turned his attention to the renegade hunter in front of him. His piercing eyes met those of the man who was now holding his club with both hands, as if it could protect him from the imposing figure in front of him.
The hunter took a step back. "W-who are you?" he stammered, trying to sound confident, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
Victor had no reason not to answer. "I'm Victor Shieldman," he said and put a hand on one of the doors, ready to open it a little wider.
