One Man Against an Endless Legion
THUD!
THUD!
THUD!
The battlefield fell strangely quiet.
Victor continued forward without even glancing back.
To him...
Those monsters had been nothing more than blades of grass standing in his path.
The surrounding undead surged toward him from every direction.
Victor welcomed them with a smile.
His scythe began moving again.
Not wildly.
Not recklessly.
Elegantly.
Each rotation flowed seamlessly into the next.
His feet danced across the ruined battlefield with impossible grace.
A sidestep.
A spin.
A low sweep.
An upward slash.
Every movement linked naturally into another as though he were performing an elegant dance rather than slaughtering thousands of undead.
Heads flew.
Bodies collapsed.
Broken bones scattered across the earth.
No attack was wasted.
No movement contained unnecessary effort.
Watching him fight felt almost unreal.
It wasn't brutality.
It was artistry.
