“Dracoth, I presume?”
Pride almost curls my lip into a smile at this stranger’s recognition. “You know of me, yet still defy me?” I ask, scrutinizing his every move, my body coiled for the fight.
“They say you bested three Draxxus warriors in Star City,” he remarks, running a hand through his long brown hair.
“Five,” I shoot back, correcting him.
“Five?” He raises his eyebrows, impressed but still smirking. “Well, then. It seems I must redeem the honor of my clan.” He titters, casually casting aside his long spear onto the frosty red grass.
“You invite only more shame, hunter.” I glare, cracking my knuckles as my blood simmers, every part of me ready for violence.
“Perhaps,” he concedes, shrugging with a smile that reeks of arrogance. “But I grow weary of hunting mere beasts.” He spreads his arms wide, pacing toward me with a cocky swagger. “Though, I must say, you’ve the look of an overgrown aurodon about you.”
Before I can respond, Princesa cuts in, drawing both our attention. “Can you hurry this up,Jungle Book?” She cradles that loathsome cyloillar in her arms, her voice dripping with impatience. “Todd’s getting hungry.”
The hunter pauses, arching an eyebrow at the creature in her arms—the single black eye of Todd blinking lazily. His smirk returns, aimed at me this time.
“Females,” he mocks, and then, in a flash, he moves.
He’s faster than expected, darting forward in a rush of motion, barely a ripple among the fluttering ice. I lash out with a brutal frontal kick, aiming to cave in his fragile chest, but he pivots at the last moment, catching my leg under his arm.
The hunter grunts, his face flushed with effort, futilely trying to throw me off balance. I grimace, hopping closer to the fool, striking with the force of a meteorite.
My fist crashes into the vambraces of his arcweave armor as he desperately throws his arms up in defense. Unwise, for my bones are forged from the Peaks of Scarn, shaking with the fury that drives him through the air.
He skids across the frost-tipped grass, claws scraping the ground in a desperate attempt to slow his slide. I could end him now—leap upon him and split his skull into tiny pieces—but instead, I cross my arms, waiting.
To his honor, he springs back to his feet with a graceful flip.
He moves more like a dancer than a warrior.
“That was... awkward,” the hunter mutters, dusting off his shoulders. His faint smile falters, turning into a grimace as he inspects his vambraces, now warped by the imprint of my knuckles.
“Gods...” His sharp yellow eyes lock onto mine. “You truly are a beast.”
My heart swells with pride. “I’m the greatest of our kind—the War Chieftain,” I growl, my crimson eyes blazing with molten Rush, also roaring through my veins, yearning to be unleashed. But I hold it back.
This contest is beneath me.
“There is no War Chieftain, friend.” He adjusts his mangled vambraces, his yellow eyes glowing against the cold mist. “Only High Chieftain Krogoth.” He shifts back into a fighting stance, fists raised, his feet dancing lightly across the frozen ground.
Krogoth.His name haunts me ceaselessly!
A storm of rage bursts from my core, and I charge like a volcano erupting. The hunter’s face shifts to horror as he leaps back, but I’m on him in an instant, raining blows upon him with murderous intent.
My fists tear through the frigid air like molten plasma, each strike narrowly missing him as he weaves and ducks.
The smugness drains from his face—now there’s only focus and fear. He dodges with increasing desperation, retreating as I drive him back toward an enormous Draxxi tree. He has nowhere left to run.
I hurl a final, devastating punch meant to end him, but at the last second, he throws himself to the ground. My fist blasts through the tree with a deafening crack, splintering ancient wood—a monument to my rage.
Branches and ice fall like the tears denied to me—Krogoth seared such weakness from me long ago.
The hunter scrambles on the ground where he belongs, his uncertain fate etched into his frightened expression.
“Peace, warrior!” he pleads, arms held high.
Peace?
