Thirty miles north, near the edge of a swamp, he caught a squad of four Zeriths tracking a lone Vanguard messenger. He didn't even drop from the trees for them. Sol simply pulled three throwing bone-daggers from his belt, infused them with his Sun Core's golde essence, and hurled them down.
The projectiles traveled like ballista bolts, punching straight through the skulls of three stalkers and pinning them deep into the forest floor before they could even twitch.
The fourth monster turned to leap into the brush, but Sol was already down. He caught the creature by its long skeletal neck mid-air and slammed its body repeatedly into a petrified trunk until the head was nothing but a yellow paste.
He didn't take their information. He didn't care about their names. It was an all-out war, and every throat he cut meant fewer monsters reaching the tribe.
But the Great Orrath was vast, and even with Layer 2 speed, he couldn't be everywhere at once.
