A red haze clouded Xiong Dahuo's vision turning much of the world a lurid shade of red and shrinking his vision until he could barely see beyond the edge of the clearing. Two Red Mist Wolves had fallen to his nine-ringed saber but their deaths hardly did anything to satisfy his thirst for slaughter.
Wet wolf blood clung unnaturally to his saber as he fed on the strength of the wolves he'd slain, boosting his strength a small stage and allowing him to fight with the might and aggression of an enraged late-stage Brawler.
Against the Blood Moon Mist Wolf before him, however, it was barely enough to fight at a stalemate. Both Xiong Dahuo and the wolf bled from numerous small wounds, glancing blows, and shallow cuts inflicted in more than a dozen exchanges as the two circled and tested each other.
