Krogar's strength and attributes were on par with a Lesser Demon, most of them matching Leonhardt, apart from attack.
But the orc was old.. almost double Leonhardt's age.
And he was too angry.
Krogar stalked through the carnage, each heavy step cracking burnt bone underfoot.
The blackened great-axe on his shoulder seemed to pulse with hatred. Orc blood painted his arms and chest. He was taller than Leonhardt by nearly a head, muscles knotted like old rope, eyes burning with the agony of loss.
The world narrowed to the two of them.
The chimaera and the last war captain of the broken tribe.
Leonhardt shifted his grip on the greatsword, measuring the orc. Fast. Defensive. But his anger makes him reckless. That's fine. He rolled his neck once, scales shifting with a soft scrape.
Krogar spat blood onto the ground.
"You killed my brothers." His voice was thick, trembling on the edge of a roar. "You burned my tribe."
