As the General approached, the false god seemed to sense a worthy opponent and turned his beast, a creature that resembled a cross between a dog and a bear, to face his new target. Their eyes met, and a silent acknowledgment passed between them — mutual recognition, if not respect, as warriors who had both lived and breathed the art of war.
Without a word, they charged each other, and the false god’s beast thundered across the blood-soaked ground, its breath misting in the cold air.
Hadjar, who was moving at a speed that was beyond what a mere mortal should’ve been capable of after hours of battle, still barely dodged the armored foe’s s***h. Feeling the displaced air from the blade’s passage as it whispered past, Hadjar slipped under the beast’s belly and tried to disembowel it, but the
