"Master, step back a bit." Suddenly, the Orc King spoke up.
Hearing that, Garek frowned and shouted, "What are you afraid of? That bastard—"
Whoosh!
Garek hadn't finished his sentence when a vine shot out from Zeka's side, like an arrow ripping through the air, shooting straight at him.
"Damn it!" Garek couldn't dodge in time and could only raise the arm he'd grafted from the dead Orc King.
BAM!
The sharp tip of the vine struck Garek's arm with a terrifying impact, sending him stumbling back more than five meters.
But if one looked closely, amidst the swirling snow and dust, Garek was still standing—his arm had successfully blocked the vine.
The vine, with a tip as sharp as a spear, could only strike against that arm, unable to pierce through.
Seeing this, Garek was startled; he hadn't expected that arm to be able to block Zeka's vine.
The Orc King was also a bit surprised to see Garek unharmed, but he quickly regained his composure.
BAM!
