The sound of hooves pounding the earth is anything but pleasant.
Especially when this strong and healthy warhorse carries a demon hunter weighing over one hundred and fifty kilograms and exuding killing intent.
Far from the sunny, joyful knight parade depicted by minstrels, the formidable and armored Lann is tall and sturdy.
The black warhorse beneath him stands at a shoulder height of one point six meters.
Such a combination charging along the narrow country roads of Velen almost conjures up images of War Ghosts and Ghost Knights from the terrifying tales that circulate around the countryside—Wild Hunt!
"Sir, I must remind you once again—please remain calm."
Mentos no longer engaged in idle banter at this moment.
Honestly, it would prefer Lann started humming a tune or hugging a jar of honey, feeding himself like a bear.
Fueled by rage, carrying all his gear, to face off against at least dozens of cruel cannibals... it's too reckless!
