Amid a roar that seemed ready to tear apart his vocal cords, the slight man forgot the pain and erupted with strength beyond ordinary imagination. He raised a hand and gripped the hand holding the dagger against his neck.
Creak, creak!
One thin hand and one strong hand seemed locked tightly together, their joints letting out teeth-grinding creaks.
Before the shadowy figure's disbelieving eyes, his own powerful hand was gripped by the slight man and forced away.
And it was more than simply being pushed aside. The slight man's fingernails dug deeply into the shadowy figure's palm and wrist.
Skin split open.
Blood flowed freely.
The dagger fell to the ground.
But the shadowy figure had no time to cry out in pain.
Because, freed from the dagger's restraint, the slight man turned around. His already twisted face was filled with hatred, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. He opened his mouth and, like a crazed beast, bit into the shadowy figure's neck.
Thud, thud thud!
The searing pain made the shadowy figure instinctively pound the slight man before him with his fists. The tremendous force striking that frail body sounded like beating a drum, yet the slight man seemed utterly unaware, as if he no longer felt pain—or as if the shadowy figure was not striking him at all.
The slight man's teeth continued cutting into flesh until—
Rip!
A huge chunk of flesh was torn from the shadowy figure's neck by the slight man.
Blood sprayed out like mist, leaving the windpipe exposed and swaying back and forth.
His face splattered with blood, the slight man looked even more savage. He had no intention of stopping. He pounced again. He wanted revenge for all of them.
He would repay every grievance!
He would devour flesh and blood