Nonsense of a Lich

Standing tall in the middle of over more than a hundred corpses like a war god, Sartan the High Troll was the last standing.

 Broken blades and spears were stuck though out his body with every wound from magic having long disappeared.

In front of him was a lone soldier pointing his sword towards Sartan with a shaken grip. Even though the soldier had the aura of a 3rd-tier that could rival Danzel, the man was in the midst of despair.

"Y-You monster!!!" Yelling out loud to bring out the last courage that he had, the man raised his hand to swing his sword filled with mana towards Sartan.

"Weak." Saying so with a rough voice, the halberd that was resting on his shoulder was raised up and brought down with such speed that the soldier couldn´t react too.

"Aggggh!!" Yelling out of pain, the man watched how his hand that held the sword was cut by the massive halberd.