Lilith's blade sang through the battlefield. Goblins shrieked as her lightning-infused air blades carved them apart, their bodies pinned helplessly by her gravity magic before she cut them down in showers of blood. Each slash was swift, merciless, almost beautiful in its precision.
Hunters nearby glanced in awe. She was only ranked D-class, yet her movements had the sharpness of someone far beyond. Every step, every flick of her wrist, turned another cluster of monsters into corpses.
But in her frenzy, Lilith didn't notice.
An orc had broken through the collapsing goblin ranks, its tusks dripping with saliva, its heavy club raised. Step after step, it thundered toward her. The ground shook beneath its weight.
Lilith's eyes stayed fixed on her slaughter.
The orc swung its club, and it was almost about to land on Lilith with a devastating blow, which would wound her badly if not kill her.
"Lilith!"
