Grathum surges forward like a falling star—both hammers raised high.
Each hammer is unlike any earthly weapon—crafted from obsidian and bone, glowing with deathflame, the heads pulsing with chained runes that scream when they move.
The three Marshals leap down from the wall to meet him, boots slamming into cracked stone.
The First Marshal—the high-level Tier 6—narrows his eyes. "He's fast."
The younger one, curses. "He's already—!"
BOOM—
Halgrom blurs.
He crashes into the ground where the three Marshals stood—except they're already gone, scattered in three directions. A massive crater forms beneath his impact, sending fractured stone flying like shrapnel.
"NOW!" shouts the First Marshal.
Streams of pressurized water shoot from his hands, spiraling through the air like twin serpents. They slam into Halgrom's flanks from both sides—hissing, cutting, pushing.
But Halgrom doesn't move.
