Nanor and Miro whirled past, their blades swinging faster than anything Markus had ever seen before. Nanor was hit in the head by the hilt of the other man’s sword, and he went down like a rock. The cloaked man raised his blade and brought it crashing down in a fatal blow; only to have it blocked by Markus’s sword. The man’s face turned, and Markus saw the hatred in his dark eyes. An elbow collided with Markus’ nose, smashing it. Blood ran from it like a river. He ignored the pain. He swung his sword, but the man deflected the blow easily. He hammered blows down on Markus, and it was all he could do to keep the cloaked man at bay. His arm felt like a hammer was smashing it repeatedly. The cloaked man smashed Markus in the face once again, and he flew backwards onto the ground. His sword landed a few feet away from him. The cloaked man approached him. Markus reached his hand down to his side, and brought the other up to his face. He tried to stem the blood flow from his nose. The cloaked man knelt down next to Markus and smiled.
“Why do you fight? You don’t have a chance. You should have just let me kill him”. Miro looked sideways. “Although I must congratulate you on killing the Gore Wolf. Impressive. For an amateur”. He sniffed the air again. “There is something interesting about you”. Markus squirmed.
“Get out of my village”. The other man laughed. He looked around him. Nanor had vanished. The man’s expression turned sour.
“You cost me my traitor, boy”. He pulled out his dagger and smiled at Markus again. Markus smiled back. He plunged his knife into the man’s neck. The man hissed, stood, pulled the knife from his neck and threw it to the ground. He smiled, and then vanished on the spot.