"Wind-Style: Double Air Slash!"
Slice—shrrrk!
Black blood misted across the cracked stone floor. Derrick's blades of wind carved through the charging dead, severing at least five in a single sweep. But within seconds those same bodies twitched, joints popping as they lurched upright again.
Despite women being known for courage and strength greater than men, Natalie did nothing to defend herself or protect the others. Maybe it was the shock of seeing people she knew stumbling forward with cracking limbs and the stench of rot. Or maybe it was witnessing Anna—her friend—become something out of a nightmare: a real demon lord, a horn pushing through her forehead, her voice deep and her aura steeped in malice. Whatever the reason, Natalie's knees weakened and her stomach twisted.
