Another wave came.
'MANA SLASH!'
'MANA SLASH!'
Time and time again— Ethan swung his sword, each arc slicing through the endless tide like a scythe cutting wheat.
His blade never stopped glowing, his body never paused— mana coursing through him like a river refusing to dry up. Natural mana inn the air surging towards him like a tide...
With every swing, the battlefield grew quieter— because fewer and fewer wolves remained alive to howl.
Even beasts that were normally his equals, Ferals; Rank 1s like him— stood no chance if they got caught in the slash's path. They died instantly, their bodies split before their minds could process the pain.
And even the Rank 2 elites— the stronger Bloodhowls the Alpha had kept in reserve— found themselves injured, their defenses cracked and their bodies torn open, if they dared to block the arc.
