Novel & Cerita Druid Slap Battles

Whoever makes a contact with his thread gets wounded or dies. Sloth raised his free hand and then smirked at Isaiah. "Would like to join my collection? You'd make a perfect puppet." Sloth is a puppeteer who likes to play behind the shadows which makes him look like he's just slacking off but it was the complete opposite. He's good at hand to hand combat and fighting with his infamous swords but he's far more dangerous when he slips into the shadows and play until he was done. Thea swirled into the air as if she was dancing. She found Pride sitting comfortably in the middle of the battlefield who was beheading and chopping whoever comes close to him.

“Andrius is arrogant and domineering, thinking he’s above anyone else. He has never respected the ancient martial families. It’s time we confronted him in a decisive battle. I think we should seize this opportunity to eliminate him!” “Killing Andrius will eliminate future troubles forever!” ... All the Sheppard disciples clamored to kill Andrius. “Good!” Damian finalized the decision with a clap. “It’s settled then. In three days, we’ll join forces with the ancient martial families and the Insect Ruler to attack Andrius. Victory is the only option for this battle. There’s no room for defeat!” ... Scenes like that happened everywhere in the ancient martial world. Three days later, at the Swal

I don't kill, I immobilize. I was in the full battle mode now, and wolves were falling at my feet. I was ripping into the side of a gold-coloured wolf, I was distracted. Too distracted to see a rouge lunge at my right. The wolf knocked me to the floor and I growled as blood pooled from my side. The battle was drawing to a close, the rouges were retreating. The wolf tearing at my body was doing it out of spite. I struggled, made a last attempt to lunge and my teeth sunk into his throat. He thrust away from me and retreated, blood dripping from his coat. I sunk down as the pack began howling in victory, a soft smile working its way onto my lips

Jun elbowed him to shut him up. JD chuckled. “It’s okay, Jun. Let David talk.” He said. Jun nodded at him. “But it’s okay if you won’t tell me, hyung.” David told JD. “It’s okay, David. You should know about this.” JD said. Then he turned to all of them. “As you know, Hercules and I will be having a duel.” He continued. David gasped but stayed quiet. “And I know you guys will try to know when and where it will happen no matter what. So I’ll save your energy for doing that. I will tell you now.”

Shaken as he was by the raging battle, Sylas grew more confident with each kill he had counted. As the Ravennites struggled to resist the push of their enemies, he found himself locked in combat against another Domineer with as much intention to kill as he did. Using the small shield on his arm, Sylas cried out as he punched his opponent across the face with it and immediately drove his blade through the base of his throat. He hissed through clenched teeth, ignoring the disturbing choking of his victim as he quickly pulled his sword away, letting the Domineer fall dead upon the snow. Sylas pointed his bloody sword down at him. “That’s for my family!” he exclaimed furiously.

With a swift kick, she sent me sprawling to the ground, but I quickly regained my footing. We continued to exchange blows, each strike met with equal force. Adrenaline surged through my veins, pushing me beyond my limits. This battle was not just physical; it was a test of wills, a clash of alpha spirits. The weight of our shared history added an extra layer of intensity to our fight. As our claws clashed and fur flew, I locked eyes with Freda, seeing a flicker of recognition amidst the chaos. We had once been allies, friends even, before the divide tore us apart. Now, we fought on opposing sides, each driven by our own convictions.

He slammed onto the mat with a bone-shaking thud. Before he could recover, I was on him. I pinned him to the floor, my forearm pressed against his windpipe. My claws elongated, sharp as obsidian razors, hovering an inch from his jugular. "Dead," I whispered. My voice was layered with a low growl. "If this were a real fight, Commander, I would have ripped your throat out before you even realized you were on the ground." Drax stared up at me. He didn't look angry. He looked proud. He tapped the mat twice with his free hand.

The way she licked the blood that brushed her lips wasn't what he would call exciting. What in the world had they done to you, Lylah? Drakora and Sylra were both using spears; the women swung them like gentle, fast, deadly waves with precision, using the fire of torches behind them as a source for the fire balls. Zav was wielding a scimitar, a sharp curved blade he swiftly used against the necks of his enemies. The battlefield was madness. Their men were also dying, but due to the traps and all, they might still have a chance as the number of wolves had reduced.

She closed her eyes and let out a sigh, she was done. The fight had ended. Timmy Stormblood (two hundred thousand perus) had defeated Deputy Officer Eithne Short-eye (two hundred thousand perus). ... Billy Drakens reached for his swords, Gravemaker and Ritual Warblade. Opposite him was the Deputy Officer Lothar Sun. Bill Drakens was an occasional dual blade weilder, his two swords were both cursed blades. Cursed weapons were told to harbour demons within them, or at least that was what the rumors told.

It'll be too late for regrets then! I realized that fighting them right now was a losing battle—it would only put Wanda in more danger. I gritted my teeth, dropped to my knees, and banged my forehead on the ground, my voice shaking but unmistakably clear while yelling, "I'm sorry! I'm pathetic! I'm a meddling busybody, and I got what I deserved!" Having banged my forehead three times on the ground, traces of blood were already seeping from my forehead. "You've got what you wanted, so hand over the medicine now!"