CLANG!
Metal screeched as the sword struck the gauntlet, the impact sending shockwaves rippling through the air.
Vakra slid back half a step, boots carving trenches into the earth. He grinned fiercely. "Not bad."
At the same time, Uncle Zan clashed with the second 4th Rank Lizardman.
The Gravehorn Longsword whistled as it cut through the air, colliding with the Lizardman's broad blade and creating sparks.
Uncle Zan's expression remained calm, as the weight and density of the Gravehorn blade began to press the Lizardman backward inch by inch.
Their battle instantly split away from the rest of the field.
And in that same heartbeat, Old Ni made his move.
He slipped past the clashes like a shadow, his body blurring as he directly faced the twenty incoming 3rd Rank Lizardmen.
These were a little bit smaller than the 4th Rank warriors. Six of them formed the front line, shields raised and spears angled forward.
Old Ni stopped, unsheathing his sword and waited.
