When Enzo saw the hulking barbarians charging at them with great sabers and swords in hand, he shouted, "Run!" He casually threw down his pack, turned and kicked several warriors behind him, driving them to flee toward Boar Tail Bay.
The warriors all cast aside their heavy packs, carrying only their weapons and arrows. They even abandoned the rations they had brought for the past few days, lowering their heads and running back. No one made a sound, no one spoke, no one asked questions. They simply ran for their lives with all their hearts.
This was a band of barbarians. Judging by the traces of demonic patterns beneath their skin and the mottled tattoos on their faces, they were the most dreaded of all barbarians: berserk headhunters. These were madmen who took pride in cutting off their enemies' heads, who used enemy skulls as currency, circulating skulls as money within their tribes.
Other barbarians might be called alien races, but they at least possessed some measure of reason. Only these berserk headhunters had never known what reason was. It seemed they had been born for one purpose alone: to kill, or to be killed.
Whenever war broke out between the alien races and the humans of the continent, armies made up of berserk headhunters were what human soldiers feared most. They would launch suicidal attacks without a shred of reason, slaughtering huge numbers of human soldiers even as they suffered devastating losses themselves.
Driven by the frenzied urge to kill in their bloodline, these berserk headhunters possessed combat strength far beyond that of barbarians of the same rank. A Heaven-rank barbarian could easily contend with two or three human warriors of the same rank, while a Heaven-rank berserk headhunter could effortlessly fight two or three Heaven-rank barbarians to a