CLARK'S FIRST TIME USING A BATTLE ART.

The Mocan soldier finally ducked, weaved, and expertly dived into one of the cars as he yelled at the driver to move immediately. He looked back, and not seeing anybody, he grinned as he felt the exotic sword which he got from this unexpected encounter.

“You’re still too green to stop me. You can only match up to me in terms of experience, in perhaps a hundred years”. He muttered with a cruel smile on his face, as he marked this Spartan soldier and this checkpoint as a no-go zone.

No matter how much he tried to elevate his ego, it did not change the fact that he ran pathetically. He was not coming back here, no matter what happened.

As his thoughts drifted about, he finally relaxed as he tried to calm his rapidly beating heart and his blood circulation. Unfortunately, he could not enjoy this luxury. He was startled, as he suddenly started hearing screaming sounds all around him.