Volk's axe sailed through the air with deadly precision, spinning toward the Dark Elven Witch as if it were a force of nature. But just as the blade was about to meet its target, something unnatural happened.
Washileak!
A thick, gnarled branch—black as midnight—shot out from the ground and wrapped itself around the handle, halting the axe mid-flight.
Grooaakk!
The wood groaned, cracking under the sudden weight of Volk's swing, but held firm.
Volk's eyes widened in surprise, but the moment of hesitation didn't last long.
With a growl that echoed through the catacombs, "AARRRGGGHH!!" he shot forward, his massive frame blurring with the speed of his movement.
His hands gripped the handle of his axe again, and with a single powerful yank, he ripped it free from the grasp of the black branch, snapping it in half as if it were nothing but a twig.
