Along the riverbank, the eight-foot-tall Berserker slowly strolled beside the water, moving downstream while its dark red eyes never left the river itself.
The demon's gaze remained fixed on the exact point where it could feel Liam's presence drifting beneath the surface. Even through the brownish water, even through the rushing current, the Berserker could still sense him.
That strong prey.
That strange prey.
That dark-scented prey.
Liam's presence moved slowly with the river, carried downstream bit by bit beneath the surface, and the Berserker followed from the bank with controlled patience.
It could have rushed into the river.
It could have leapt in, plunged its claws through the water, dragged Liam back out, and continued tossing him around until the human's bones shattered beyond movement.
However, the Berserker wanted nothing to do with those brownish waters.
It knew what lurked beneath them.
