FOOOOSHHHH!!!
A streak of light—blinding, as radiant as the sun's own spears—ripped across the dungeon skies.
The dark cavern, once an eternal void, cracked under the sheer brilliance.
Inside the deepest pits, where nothing but shadows had ever breathed, a searing blaze ignited everything.
HOOOO…!!!
SWIIISSHHH!!!
SWOOOSHHHH!!!
The monsters shrieked.
Creatures that had lived their entire lives blind in the abyss froze, their instincts breaking under the storm of radiance.
And then—slaughter.
The figure of light blurred past them, faster than their eyes could follow, tearing them apart like hot knives through frozen butter.
Limbs fell before their screams even formed.
Lucas didn't even need to strike anymore.
The holy sword sang for him, its edge cutting through air, through flesh, through spirit itself.
Monsters fell in droves—those that crawled on the ground, those that soared in the air—none of them escaped the holy brilliance that refused to dim.
