The blood-red mist first wrapped around them.
It wasn't a gentle adherence, but rather, it clamped onto the blade like high-voltage electricity, forcibly stabilizing the mundane iron to prevent it from shattering the moment the power surged through.
Immediately, a purple ethereal light extended silently from the blade, elongating into an invisible light blade nearly two meters long.
The air was cut.
The silver decorative sword emitted a faint, piercing wail, with a slight tremor in the blade, as if it would melt under the high pressure at any moment.
The monsters advanced.
Twelve berserker warriors stepped forward simultaneously, moving so swiftly that they left afterimages on the retina.
Giant axes swung up, axe blades tearing through the air, stirring heavy wind pressure.
The priest in mid-air raised his staff at the same time, his mental scream like an invisible tsunami, crashing down.
