From all sides, they charged — wolfmen, scaled warriors, stone-skinned beasts.
Rudra's blood sang.
He moved — weaving, striking, dodging by millimeters.
[Mirage Veil] flames wrapped around his steps, his every motion feeding into the next like an unstoppable rhythm.
An ax-blade grazed his ribs.
He grunted, twisting his body in a way no normal human should've been able to — his assassin training snapping into place. His gauntlet whipped out in a vicious backfist, splitting the attacker's skull.
Three down.
Four.
Five.
He fought like a gleeful devil-child, laughing and taunting even as blood coated his arms and the ground grew slippery.
[Level Up: 9 →10.] (+2 to all Stats, +2 Unassigned Stat Points)
A surge of power slammed into his body.
Muscles hardened. Reflexes sharpened. His heart thundered like a war drum.
"Ahahahaha!!" Rudra threw his head back, drunk on the feeling. "This feeling of gaining strength is addicting!"
All around him, warriors hesitated.
