The packed soil exploded backward under his boots as the world turned into a breathless smear. He was moving faster than a naked eye could track.
Golden light bled up from his palms, swirling violently before condensing into a pair of sleek, sharp-angled short swords. The woven Vitae hummed with a high, ringing vibration, their edges glowing with enough raw intensity to pierce through solid steel.
He collided with the frontline of the swarm like a meteor.
Swapping momentum into a tight, fluid spin, his right-hand blade cut a vicious horizontal arc. It met the leading Vorthak's extended scythe-limb, and the hard-light shell split with a deafening crack, the severed limb flying through the air as the construct came apart.
"Good start," Annalise said, watching this with interest. "My eyes can barely track him, and I'm a speedster myself."
