I drew my blades.
The aura that escaped from my body was so violent that the generals had to step back several paces. They raised their arms in front of their faces to protect themselves.
I leaped.
My body became nothing more than a streak of gray light crossing the battlefield. I was not using magic, I only had my Arts, those techniques I had developed over decades of hand-to-hand combat.
The lower-ranked monsters were nothing more than insignificant obstacles. With each step, I pivoted on myself. With each rotation of my blades, dozens of heads flew. Severed limbs fell to the ground. The demonic blood, black and viscous, rained on my armor without ever dulling my momentum. It slid on the metal like water on stone, leaving behind shiny trails that evaporated immediately.
I moved with a speed that defied human perception.
