Countering The Undercurrent

In a valley not far from the Snow Cliff, a middle-aged man with greying hair was practising his swordsmanship under the morning sun. His skill with the blade wasn’t much to speak of, and without any bloodlust his moves simply looked like stunts, but he was repeating a small set of movements repeatedly to try and perfect them.

“Breakfast is ready,” a barbarian woman with toned musculature walked out from a nearby house, pausing as she saw the man’s face, “Hmm? Something on your mind?”

“Nothing,” the man laughed it off, “Just feel like some old friends will come knocking on our doors soon.”

The woman immediately frowned, bloodlust radiating from her body, “I can kill those...