The clash of the axe and the long staff resounded through the air. After several flashes of mysterious runes on the brown staff, it couldn't hold on any longer. It flew out of the hands of the young monk, devoid of the empowering runes. Without those runes, the staff was just a hard stick; only with the runes could it be considered a treasure.
The young monk, unarmed, didn't retreat in the face of the giant axe. Astonishingly, he caught it with his bare hands.
Hiss...
The sound of the blood axe tearing through flesh echoed, and the young monk gritted his teeth, his face pale. His eyes radiated a fierce determination, and finally, blood trickled from between his clenched teeth. His body couldn't bear it anymore.
"Kind Sir," the young samanera struggled to utter these words through his clenched teeth. Then, he managed a faint smile and hoarsely continued, "I am going to follow my master's footsteps. Kind Sir, take care!"
