Martin's breaths came out in slow, steady streams of vapor as the Silver Swords rotated around him in a tight, disciplined formation.
Their crescent moon shape shimmered faintly
The remains of the Blue Liquid Monsters were still melting into the ground like spilled mercury, their strange bodies steaming with an unnatural hiss.
The battlefield stank of burnt minerals.
Normally, he fought with restraint ten, maybe fifteen percent of his total power, holding back to ensure he wouldn't deplete his reserves in drawn-out encounters.
But here?
No. He'd poured in thirty percent.
That difference was more than numbers it was raw force
The fight had been relentless.
The Blue Liquid Monsters were unlike most enemies he'd faced before no organs to target, no flesh to tear in the conventional sense.
They were shifting masses, liquid and solid all at once, capable of reshaping mid-strike.
