Sword of the Soul
Walking in the desert, a slim man wrapped in layers of cloth moved carefully.
He walked with a slow pace, dragging something thin across the sand, splitting it and creating a ditch in it. Something was getting in his way.
Logan stopped suddenly, something in the panorama that alerted him, a gigantic sandstorm was coming towards him. He put his hand out from his hood and relaxedly took his canteen from his waist.
A strong hot wind hits his face, a harbinger of the coming storm. The gale managed to lift his cape, revealing the long-lasting tool he carried on his arm. But it wasn't as if he was wielding it at all. The thing was fused with his hand to the point that his fingers could not be distinguished from the instrument. The thing was like a very thin, seemingly fragile sword.
Listen to some sounds, like a whistle in the distance. He quickly fixes his eyes on the horizon and sees some figures going down on the back of some camels.
He quickly puts the canteen back in its place and sets out to run at full speed.
He had already covered a few meters when one of the individuals caught up with him. He was wearing a black hood and had an axe in his hand, similarly, it seemed to be welded to his hand.
Logan lunged at the harasser, cutting the camel's head off with a slash from his fine tool. If he loses momentum, he cuts the rider down and kills him in seconds.
Another axe man who approached from Logan's blind spot slashes his sword-hand. The hand falls into the sand without releasing the sword.
Logan begins to lose his breath. Some kind of energy form begins to escape from his severed arm. The last thing I see is the bounty hunters raising their arm and taking it as a trophy.