Griffith Berserk Mga Nobela at Kwento

Adrian asked after looking at their conditions. Lena anxiously said, "Berserk's arm is infected, but he's in better condition than Griffin and Ridge. Ridge’s condition is the most severe. His entire wound has rotted away… I can't even begin to imagine how painful it must be." She was on the verge of tears. ‘Ridge’s wound is infected, and there aren’t any painkillers… I think anyone else in his situation would've died from the pain by now, but he hasn't even uttered a single complaint.’

Berserkers were already inside the outer wall, fighting hand to hand with garrison wolves. "North wall." Rhea shoved a shield at Serna. "They're coming over heavy there." Serna ran. Her leg still hurt from the spear wound but she ignored it. Got to the north wall just as three berserkers came over the top. Cut the first one down before his feet hit stone. Second one got her in the shoulder with an axe, she felt it bite deep. Spun and opened his throat anyway. Third one was huge, had a morning star that whistled past her head. She ducked, came up inside his guard, drove both knives under his ribs.

My lungs ached from the process of holding my breath, and my palms by my side turned slick with sweat as every muscle in my body went tight. And finally I saw them. Griffin. And his crew. They emerged into the clearing, cursing and throwing crude insults about the race. Griffin looked furious, but his shoulders were still squared, his chin lifted high; even after defeat, he still carried himself like he hadn’t lost. A gasp caught in my throat as I tried to process it. My heart was thundering heavily in my chest as I crouched lower. What were they doing here? Was this where they came from?