Chapter 422: How to Live as a Wandering Knight (3)
...Pow!
The hard skeleton shattered and all the hot stuff inside spilled out onto the ground.
The Poison Gnoll fell to the ground, spraying poisonous brain fluid, and after shaking its body for a while, it cooled down.
The gnolls that had followed the Poison Gnoll into human territory also fell to the ground, all of them dead.
Initially a single clean hole in the head or heart, the gnoll corpses piled up, their entrails and heads bursting open in a gruesome, messy mound that testified to the fierceness of the battle.
Knight of the Night. Tudor, a wandering knight in black plate armor, sat atop the corpses of the gnolls, breathing heavily.
"...It's hard to get used to having one arm."
The expression on his face has worn away as he continues to march, constantly exhausted and tired from the lack of sleep.
Muttering to himself in a dry voice, Tudor suddenly realizes that his tone and manner of speaking reminds him of someone he remembers, then smiled.
"Perhaps that's how he's always lived his life, and that's why he's so cold and dull in personality...."
Vikir. The Night Hound.