Their three enemies stood across the muddy field, Battle-Seiðr Vikings, their bodies pulsing with eerie runes that glowed even through the rain. The one on the left gripped a double-headed axe, the one on the right twirled a longsword with surprising grace, and the one in the middle, clearly the strongest held a long black spear that hummed with divine energy.
Their smiles were cold and cruel, the kind predators wore when their prey had already been cornered.
"Enough yappin', old men. Time to die," the spear-wielding Viking snarled, his voice deep and guttural. He lunged first, his spear tearing through the air with a shrill whistle.
Grand Elder Tian met him head-on, his arms dark like forged steel. Sparks burst out as spear met iron flesh, each strike heavy enough to leave cracks on the ground. Their movements blurred, both trading blows without giving an inch, each strike carrying the power of a Peak Knight Two Stage.
