Chief Aktun of Vargar tribe stood before the chief of the Targal tribe.
He looked undeniably brave and the very image of a warrior.
Chief Kwante of Targal tried hard to suppress his surprise, gazing only at Aktun.
As the fighting paused, Vargar warriors who had forced their way in entered the clearing one by one, axes raised. Behind , the berserkers lined up.
This was a promise of the Tak tribe warriors.
If the chief faces off against another chief, the battle is suspended and everything must be entrusted to the victor.
"Woorah! woorah!"
Thud—thud—thud—
The Targal warriors began stomping and shouting their battle cries. The chants ant "Fight,"
"Kill,"
"Charge!" and "Victory!"
More and more warriors stomped and shouted "Woorah."
Refusing a one-on-one battle in this situation would be no different than admitting defeat.
In the end, chief Kwante of Targal picked up the axe from the ground. He was despicable, but not without skill.
As Kwante stepped to the center of the clearing, the two chiefs gripped their hatchets and began to circle each other slowly.
Then, suddenly—
With a shout, Kwante lunged and aid for Aktun's side.
But Aktun casually brushed aside the assault, bringing his axe down on Kwante's shoulder.
Thunk—
Kwante barely blocked the falling axe with his left hand.
But imdiately, Aktun's right foot smashed into Kwante's abdon.
With a thud, Kwante was sent sprawling backward and rolled on the ground.
As he hastily got up and assud his stance again, Aktun slowly approached.
Just as Kwante charged again—
Suddenly, there was a sound ripping through the air, and—thwack—sothing was caught in Aktun's left hand.
It was an arrow.
The mont Aktun caught the arrow, Kwante, already closing in, swung his axe at Aktun's head.
Aktun batted away the flying axe and then ramd his head into Kwante's face.
Imdiately after, Aktun embedded his axe in Kwante's left shoulder.
Thud—schlik—
As the axe was pulled out, blood spurted from Kwante's shoulder.
Kwante staggered backward, and Aktun walked toward him slowly. But then another arrow flew in.
Ting—
Aktun struck aside the arrow and shouted.
"Emahs eht wonk!"
Kwante clenched his teeth, looked at Aktun, then looked at . He clearly had no intention of dying here.
Just as I thought.
As he raised his left hand, archers appeared on the surrounding rooftops and all at once unleashed a volley of arrows.
Aktun dodged and deflected the arrows, but one struck his shoulder.
At the sa ti, Targal warriors charged at him en masse. Kwante quickly retreated.
For them, defeat ant the end, so the honor of a warrior ant nothing. In fact, it worked out well for us.
Aktun barreled through the Targal warriors closing in, using only his body.
We had known he was strong, but this was beyond imagination.
Six warriors fell at once, and he leapt right over the encirclent. Then he hurled his axe at the fleeing Kwante.
Whissssh whissssh—
Thud—
The axe embedded itself in the back of Kwante's head, and he tumbled lifelessly.
Imdiately, Aktun shouted.
"Woorah! Vargar!"
With that cry, a chaotic lee broke out.
Aktun began felling the charging Targal warriors barehanded.
Astonishingly, his punches surged with the force of a storm.
Even though he was suppressing the power of "Vargar
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