As the warlord turned his sword with its tip down, he began to run almost at that moment toward the beautiful pillar that was so five steps away from him. The blow of the bear's paw only stirred the air where it had been a moment earlier. He had already reached the column. He jumped on the carving that could have been at waist height. Bouncing off it, the centerline of two men's bodies rose to a height, and the upturned tip of his sword was already far higher than the beast's head. Even by perched on both hind legs.
Attila's fighting mood raged and he wanted to kill. Clearly, and visibly, he could see where the beast, moving much slower than him, would stab the blade around its neck next to its injured front paw. He could already feel how long it would take for the animal's heart to hit the mountain when a voice reached his brain.
- Attila !! Nooo !! He heard Eskam from somewhere. The warning was dull, but just enough for the general to take away the force of his stab.
He could no longer stop the sword. As he looked down, he was no longer a bear, but his brother staring at him questioningly. He could clearly see the fear of death on Bleda's face, but it was too late. The tip of the sword penetrated the king's neck.
Attila was still using his momentum and the fact that Bleda was a good one meter lower, so he could turn over his brother's head and pull out his sword. So it could only cut the bone, at least that's what Attila hoped.
The warlord's feet hit the ground. He stared at the bloody sword in his hand. He could still hear Bleda's body cut to the ground and his head touching the stone floor. Then he felt insane pain. Within. His memories began to gallop. He remembered his childhood, and in a split second, everything he did with his brother. The beautiful memories now split painfully into him. As he turned the sword, still in his right hand, toward him, he saw a red metal the size of nearly a mile from the tip. And the blade gleaming in the bluish silvery light did not see his own face reflected. It seemed to show him the events of his childhood, and he saw them with both eyes.
The pain now began to affect the warlord from the inside out, dropping his sword. He pressed both hands to his head. There were signs of madness on his face. A silent roar left his lips.
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The Hun God Swords - Angel of hope
الروحانيةWe can follow how a little boy becomes a superhero. All this through the Hungarian saying world. It's a very exciting story. Full of love threads. As the Taltos did in the past. Wizards, monsters, kings, intrigue and love in one story.
