The two Wretched Fiends stood unmoving while spinning their chained axes in their grasp for a few seconds. Up until one of them suddenly stopped, letting the axe sway in an unstable arc before going completely still.
Then it dropped the chains, letting its weapon fall toward the ground with a loud, resounding thud that echoed through the battlefield.
It lingered for a moment.
And then, its hands were raised high before digging into its own armour, one rough, violent jerk after the other, peeling away every armour plate it had on its upper body.
Clang!
Clang!
The resounding noise from each heavy piece crashing against the ground filled the air, ringing out sharply and repeatedly.
And while this went on, Oliver was forced to watch. Not necessarily because he wanted to, but because he knew the attack pattern of these horrid beasts.
