The two soldiers' eyes widened in surprise as Azriel's attack came at them.
The man with the axe gritted his teeth, suddenly spinning and bringing his weapon down with a deafening crash.
The sound of steel echoed through the cave, reverberating ominously.
Azriel blinked, taken aback—he had been parried.
This was the first time since arriving in this world that someone had managed to block his first move.
He didn't have a chance to catch his breath as the axe-wielding soldier pressed the attack, his movements fluid, each swing revealing his mastery of the weapon.
Azriel gritted his teeth, barely managing to block each strike, but it was clear—he was on the defensive, each blow pushing him closer to the edge of the bridge.
His arms began to go numb under the weight of the man's relentless onslaught.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the swordsman, his ear still bleeding, charging toward him with fury painted across his face.