Swinging Heaven Defier with effortless precision, Greg cleaved through a cluster of demons as if they were soft tofu.
Their bodies parted in sprays of dark ichor, the air filling with the acrid stench of burned flesh and sulfurous blood.
Limbs tumbled to the scorched ground, but Greg didn't pause, his movements fluid and unyielding.
He opened his mouth wide, flames gathering in his throat.
Carefully targeting those demons bearing the twisted sigils of Greed, golden chains etched into their armored hides, he unleashed a searing fire breath.
The inferno roared outward, enveloping them in black-violet tongues that crackled with abyssal hunger, reducing the group to smoldering crisps in seconds.
"Do not falter your formation! Hold still and keep mounting pressure!"
Greg caught the barked orders from their commander, a hulking demon with jagged horns and a voice like grinding stones.
A faint smile crept across Greg's face, amusement flickering in his eyes amid the chaos.
