A wall of flames exploded from the fox, sending a dozen battalions flying. Soldiers screamed as the warbear plowed through shield formations like they were paper, tossing enchanted boulders like toys.
Above them, mages released bolts of ice, fire, and wind—each enough to destroy small cities. Kent stood on Sparky's back, completely unbothered, deflecting spells with a casual flick of his fingers.
Then he jumped.
He landed amidst the core formation like a meteor, his Heavenly Sword flashing out.
CLANG—BOOM!
One swing sent out a shockwave that tore apart the ground. Twenty men flew backward, armor shattered, weapons broken. Mages screamed and scattered as Kent walked forward, sword resting on his shoulder like a farmer holding a rake.
Every time a general rushed toward him with a spell—heaven suppression chains, divine light seals, phantom tigers—Kent simply sliced them apart, leaving nothing but sparks and regrets.
The battlefield was chaos.
