Volk sneered, his massive frame towering over the eerie, desolate landscape of the Draconic Graveyard.
The bones crunched under his heavy boots as he sized up the edgy teenager who stood across from him.
The kid was all cockiness, his smirk and casual stance clearly meant to provoke.
Without a word, Volk kicked up a massive bone from the ground, launching it through the air toward the brat.
He grinned wickedly as the bone flew, using its trajectory to hide his own movement as he charged forward behind it, axe in hand, ready to strike.
The bone whizzed through the air.
Swoosh!
The teenager barely moved, his grin widening as he sidestepped the attack with ease.
Volk's eyes widened, but before he could adjust his approach, the teenager mumbled something under his breath.
"Dead Exchange."
Volk furrowed his brow.
What the hell does that mean? But he had no time to think.
