Guts’ demeanor changes as he spins towards a man’s voice to his left. His mind focuses in on that target, all the distractions of the woods blacked out by the urge to kill.
Safflower’s front hooves bounce off the ground, inadvertently drawing the man’s attention as she kicks up dirt. A short, agitated neigh from deep within her chest answers his baffled question of: ’A horse?’ And the dawning realization that he’d been discovered. He curses under his breath.
In that moment, Guts had vanished from the boat and moved a few paces behind him, sword drawn. The visor was slid over his face, his eyes peering out from the steel rim like sinister black wells.
A twig cracks beneath his boot, giving him away a pace or two early. Guts clenches his teeth at his mistake, a flash of white in the muddy green, but leaps forward to make his move.
It’s over after a brief struggle. The pommel of Lashan’s sword is slammed down on the man’s skull. With a grunt of pain and his opponent dazed, Guts moves to grapple. He was a little shorter than his enemy, but the difference wasn’t so great that he couldn’t leverage their weights to slam him on his back.
Knees pin the armored body to the ground, the sword edge is held a hair’s width away from skin and all the delicate blood vessels in the throat.
“Scream, and I’ll cut your head off.” the boy hisses out, and the crazed look in his eyes seems to freeze whatever panicked words were waiting in the throat beneath his sword.
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Safflower’s front hooves bounce off the ground, inadvertently drawing the man’s attention as she kicks up dirt. A short, agitated neigh from deep within her chest answers his baffled question of: ’A horse?’ And the dawning realization that he’d been discovered. He curses under his breath.
In that moment, Guts had vanished from the boat and moved a few paces behind him, sword drawn. The visor was slid over his face, his eyes peering out from the steel rim like sinister black wells.
A twig cracks beneath his boot, giving him away a pace or two early. Guts clenches his teeth at his mistake, a flash of white in the muddy green, but leaps forward to make his move.
It’s over after a brief struggle. The pommel of Lashan’s sword is slammed down on the man’s skull. With a grunt of pain and his opponent dazed, Guts moves to grapple. He was a little shorter than his enemy, but the difference wasn’t so great that he couldn’t leverage their weights to slam him on his back.
Knees pin the armored body to the ground, the sword edge is held a hair’s width away from skin and all the delicate blood vessels in the throat.
“Scream, and I’ll cut your head off.” the boy hisses out, and the crazed look in his eyes seems to freeze whatever panicked words were waiting in the throat beneath his sword.