"Hold him back? Are you kidding me?" the second underling shouted in fear.
A chill ran down his spine as he looked at Hector's indifferent eyes—and now he was supposed to fight that monster.
Every cell in his body screamed a warning: if he fought Hector, he would die for sure.
"I-I can't." He stammered and staggered backward, running.
Of course, Hector never let his prey escape. He closed the gap between them at a ridiculous speed, stabbing straight through his enemy's back, making a hole in him.
"Turning your back on your enemy is a cowardly act. Go to hell with such disgraceful behavior."
He glanced at the second underling with a disgusted look and shoved his enemy away with his hardened, steel-like hand. Then, with a swift motion of his hand that stopped suddenly midair, making the bloodstrain of his hand vanished.
He smirked and turned his attention to Max—but he had already disappeared from his spot.
He had run… no. Hector didn't think so.
