At the moment, the Swordsman was weaving through the chaos, his sword a blur of golden light.
⸢Blessed Edge⸥ was the only thing that consistently bit deep. This time, he didn't imbue it with Soulfire. He was going to have to depend on his Skeletons kills for EXP growth to his Necromancer Class.
He couldn't afford to spend any more death mana on the excess beasts.
Lightpiercer slashed and slashed and slashed.
Silver lines filled the Volcanic Stone Land.
Percival killed one, then another, carving a path toward the lava lake.
On his mental map, the HP bars of some of his Skeletons flickered orange, then red.
A Ranger in Silverwrought armor was crushed by two Scuttlers; their pincers sheared through its ribs, and its icon winked out.
Percival frowned. He'd lost a Ranger. To avoid that from happening again, he used ⸢Soul Draught⸥ on the few fallen Scuttlers around him.
