This must be the top berserker of the Barbarian Race.
Duncan turned back and shot another arrow, hitting the enemy's abdomen. Yet, the opponent didn't even grunt, instead retrieving another hand axe with a backhand. He was prepared in advance; the Franks favored throwing axes, but the Saxons were not adept at it.
In the sound of cutting through the air.
Duncan rolled sharply, the flying axe landing where he had been, embedding itself in the soil.
"Such strength!"
Duncan's Frankish throwing axe had an effective range of only thirty or forty meters. The enemy managed to throw it fifty or sixty meters with significant lethality.
"This guy uses double axes as single-handed; I can't fight him head-on!"
Duncan stopped wasting time drawing his bow and took advantage of the cover of night to rush directly towards the forest.