In the swaying of the branches, the eyes shine through the shadows of the trees, accompanied by the howling of the cold wind, which is the most common in winter, and freeze on the figure still standing in the woods. The moonlight, as bewitching and dignified as blood-colored ink, fell from the branches and smeared on the body of the warrior whose shoulders shook with gasp. The rows of shadows seemed to be a delicately strung layer of magical armor, draped over the body by a neutral god in the sky.

As the goddess of death and pain, Avne's tears for her dead lover, carrying her last shred of justice and kindness, the red moon has mercy on everything, but it also means that it contains her will, which is devastating to all things. At this time, the neutral god was scanning the ground with his cold, emotionless eyes, sprinkling the moonlight on the messy ground.

The trees were filled with a mixture of biting air and the smell of blood, and the cold wind swept over every branch, but the arms of the plants could not grasp them. The figure panting slowly crouched on the snow, and several rapid squeezing sounds came from his chest and the ground at the same time.

Blankly stretching out his hands, the warrior lowered the handle of his weapon, which was coated in viscous blood but gradually frozen by the cold, and touched the ground with his fingertips dyed dark red. He picked up a handful of snowflakes and rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger until the blood scabs on the skin fell off, revealing pale, rough skin.

The cold made the man's body shake, but then he thrust his hands into the snow and held them up and rubbed them on his face with dark red snowflakes under the red moon. It wasn't until the snow melted into ice water that Riga cleared most of his face, which was clinging to blood and pieces of flesh. As the bitter cold wind gradually dried their faces and beards, the Quaid's eyes widened, reflecting the chaos in their blue pupils on the ice that shimmered with bewitching blood.

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With the wounds of the cave lion's bite on their legs and arms, the Quaids rushed at the hordes of beasts. Behind him was a staggering, slender shadow that at first looked as if it was about to fall. It wasn't until five or six breaths later that an incredible force brought him back to his usual vigor. Although the ruptured wound was still bleeding, the hunter seemed to have lost his sense of pain.

His feet wrapped in snow badger skin shook the earth violently, and Riga jumped up like a majestic god with his hands in his hands and slashed down at a tall cave lion. The wound trembled with the violent movements, and some sticky blood was squeezed out, which turned into red pearls and scattered. But when his feet hit the ground, curled up to reduce the momentum of his body, the hole torn by the lion's fangs was no longer bleeding outward. In the hunter's body, a new thick white membrane surrounded the blood vessels and bones, and no matter how much he moved, he could only squeeze out a small amount of yellow viscous saliva mixed with blood streaks hidden in the crystal fresh flesh.

The falling axe screeched and severed the cold wind and the lion's head without hindrance. The howling north wind swept through the blue-black battle axe in an instant, and then blew south, but the cave lion's head that also fell could only roll on the snow, allowing the hot blood to melt the ice that had accumulated on the ground.

Like an erupting volcano, the hunter's eyes spewed a frenzied and irrational light, and he turned his body and slashed out the great axe. The rough, hard tip of the axe drew a semi-circular arc in the air, embedded in the lion's eye like a peg. Then, without pause, the great tomahawk slashed across the beast's forehead, leaving a broad scar deep into the bone, curled in the wind like the thick lips of a snow ape.

Crazy and out of his mind, Riga is a skilled martial artist, and every attack can accurately damage the enemies who pounce on him, but there are too many enemies around him. As he pulled the axe handle out of the third beast's shattered throat, a lion's claw cut several scars at his back, intersecting with the clotted scabs from earlier.

"Hirag!" a low roar welled up in his chest, and the Quaid threw his fist back, slamming it hard into the cave lion's fragile black nose. A slippery stream of slime erupted from its nostrils, and the beast let out a short wail, but in an instant it reopened its mouth and bit down on its wrist.

The right hand holding the double-edged battle axe swung violently, flicking the blood stained with the smooth face of the axe onto the trunk of a nearby tree. The Quaid's thick arms strained and sliced the tomahawk into the head of the other beast as easily as slicing through fresh butter.

Then he let go of the somewhat slippery handle of the axe, and with blood-soaked gloves on both hands, he broke the lion's jaws up and down. With a roar of rage emanating from his chest, the Quaid's stout arms flexed, tearing off their jaws as the beast struggled to die. As the rough pink tongue danced with the spurting blood, Rigga's right hand clasped together and stabbed forward like a dagger, stabbing straight into its brain, ending the lion's struggle.

The right hand was pulled from the lion's still twitching skull, and the hunter did not shake off the red and white viscous liquid on it. He held it high and applied it hard and slowly to his face, leaving four marks of a distinctly different thickness from the cyan Frost Bear Clan.

The rest of the beasts roared, sharp fangs sticking out of their mouths. They still look vicious, but with only half a dozen of them remaining, they have begun to fear the encircled enemy until the king of the lions appears on the battlefield.

This is a lion like no other. Its fur was grayish-white, unlike the brown of the beasts that fell to the ground. Tall, muscular, the body is comparable to that of a snow bear, with a thick tail swinging behind him, and the fluffy long hair around the neck stands straight up like a cedar tree. The Cave Lion King shook his huge head, his crystal-clear eyes projecting terrifying anger and curiosity.

"Roar!" Eventually, it stood up and roared, and its two forelimbs pounced on the snow, allowing the remaining lions to attack.

The half-dozen cave lions leaped up at the same moment as their king's roar, and slammed down on the Quaids who were surrounded in the center. Rega swung his battle axe frantically, causing the blue-black light from the blade to envelop half of his body like a chrysalis. The two beasts first wailed and fell to the side, each with a half-foot deep wound on their head and neck. But the rest have escaped the threat of the hunters, who have torn around the Quaid, scarring him and deftly dodging the heavy tomahawks.

Even though he couldn't feel the physical pain, Riga was scarred by the cave lions, and beads of crimson blood scattered like scattered pearls on the snow around him as he swung his claws. Until he suddenly touched the small axe hanging from the side of his leg.

Forged by Terran craftsmen and eventually flowing into the hands of the Quaids, the battle axe was as sharp as the language of the cursed gods. Riga swung it vigorously, and soon slashed down the cave lion that rushed in front of him, covered with narrow, long wounds.

When the last wounded cave lion was cut off its neck, the lion king, standing alone on the boulder, finally took a step. Like the most arrogant and powerful warrior, the Lion King did not recall the people who were still fighting Garr. It stood alone in front of the wounded Quaid, then suddenly turned.

In the midst of the strange movements, two swirling and expanding snowflakes quickly appeared in front of the lion king, and after two breaths, they flew rapidly across the sky, tearing through the cold air in front of him, and finally hit and embedded in the trunk of a strong pine tree. The Quaids, who had lost their minds, would not stand in their way, so the Lion King unleashed another spell until the "Ice Arrow" stored in the spell slot was consumed.

The Pride Lion King has a high degree of intelligence, so he unleashes stored spells, as he is not willing to take advantage of the Quaid in battle. With his limbs treading lightly on the snow, the Cave Lion King walked around the Quaid, roaring and pressing them as he found a place where he was defenseless. But in fact, the Quaid who had lost their minds were standing still. It wasn't until the lion king roared and pounced on him that he quickly raised his battle axe.

The thick arm swung a heavy battle axe, the blade of which sliced through the freezing cold air, but it didn't slash the enemy, and the lion king used his nimble body to run on the ground, easily dodging the axe blade, and then pounced on Riga, overwhelming him with more than two thousand pounds. The Giant Kiss spewed out a fishy hot breath and struck the Quaid in the face, and the Lion King stuck out his teeth and bit down on the hunter's neck without causing any damage. But Riga was not conscious, but immediately raised the small axe in his left hand, and quickly and laboriously slashed the lion's neck, causing the monster to fall down with a wail.

The hot lion's blood immediately sprayed down the hunter's face along the wound, causing him to struggle in pain for a few times, and let out an unpleasant low howl from his throat until he fell unconscious. However, before he was completely unconscious, his consciousness returned to the Quid man's head, allowing him to feel a lion's claw on his forehead and gradually lightening, and to hear the whispers of vicissitudes that seemed to come from the netherworld, with deep exhaustion.

"Palathan, my god my lord, please receive my restless soul and free me from the darkness of the abyss. ”