Rising from the Ashes (Andrew) novel Chapter 3104

Stretching out his skeletal hand, Ragnar directly caught Andrew's massive black-red sword strike. Then, with a forceful squeeze, using only his physical strength, he crushed the sword beam to pieces.

Andrew stood atop the fortress, holding Godslayer, coldly watching Ragnar rise into the air.

The latter examined Andrew and spoke in a raspy voice. "A man from Holtrien? How did you end up mixed up with the Highland Tribe?"

Andrew did not answer but asked back, "Which werewolf progenitor are you?"

Ragnar smiled grimly. "The Third Progenitor, Lord Ragnar Marrock. Now that you know my esteemed name, get on your knees and let me drain your brain and rip out your spine. Don't worry. I won't tear you apart directly. I'll transform you into one of my servants, making you an undead for eternity to serve me!"

Andrew replied flatly, "You talk too much, you monster! I think you should follow Fenrir and meet your end!"

Ragnar suddenly flew into a rage, opening his mouth to let out a beast-like roar. Endless savage light shot from his amber eyes.

He growled, "I will tear you apart, you lowly insect!"

He shot forward, viciously clawing at Andrew.

Andrew blocked with his great sword, only to feel primordial power surging toward him. His heart jolted.

Indeed, Ragnar was a progenitor of werewolves. The force of this single strike far exceeded anything Othniel, Kaelen, and other powerhouses could compare to.

Andrew's sword slashed wildly, each strike carrying tremendous force in wide, sweeping arcs, mighty and fierce.

Ragnar's face was twisted in a snarl, and without any exaggerated movements, he simply struck out with his withered palms.

Andrew's sword beams were dispersed by those slaps. This ancient creature had lived for 1000 years and had become something nearly unkillable.

Othniel roared like thunder, locked in fierce battle with Edmund. Both were martial god-level powerhouses and strength-type berserkers. Combined with the ancestral hatred carved into their bloodlines, the fight instantly became one of mutual destruction.

Edmund's savage roars tore through the air as his leather coat burst apart. His bulging muscles swelled even larger.

He had transformed.

In an instant, a massive werewolf with dark red fur appeared atop the fortress.

Othniel's eyes filled with hatred as he raised his cavalry saber and brutally slashed forward. The giant werewolf reared up on its hind legs, its steel-like claws striking out violently.

In that moment, the two berserkers exchanged blow for blow, trading life for life.

Othniel roared, "Edmund, you want to wipe out my tribe? It won't be that easy! At the very least, you're going to die here with us!"