Boom!
Like a shrapnel shot into their midst. Mark stood in the way of the soldiers–soldiers that were in the three dozens.
His hands were tightened into a fist, his face contorted to that that held great anger in them.
One that had Reit in his hands swallowed for Mark looked as menacing as an enemy could get. The men knew as soon as the dust cleared and revealed the figure that Mark was the man their commander was out for.
"Yahh!" One of the men yelled, initiating the battle. He was a beastkin of dog and man features and he had with him a sword which he lunged as he approached Mark.
Mark's eyes gleam with coldness. He disappeared, wisps of shadows arrived in his place, and before the beastkin knew it, his vision darkened as Mark sent a powerful chop at his nape, crushing his brain stem and spine, and he died immediately there.
