Hex pulled his sword from his last kill.
After a long and arduous battle they managed to kill all the wolves. The floor and walls were covered in gore.
He was the only Squire still on his feet. As the end neared and the youngsters realized that they would survive, they started to fall on the floor. They lay there groaning in pain.
It wasn't that Hex didn't feel tired. His arms were worn out and it even stung to hold on to the hilt of the sword. Hex remained on his feet because he was the last one to drink a potion.
"It's hard to imagine that you became a Blessed just last week," Allie said suddenly. She was leaning against the corpse of a wolf.
Hex shrugged and pulled his dagger. Looting corpses had been a part of his life even before he became a Squire. He could do it quickly and with minimal effort.
