Facing the onrushing grafted Monster, before that colossal, twisted silhouette like some hundred-armed Giant—
The mysterious jet-black armor simply stood there in silence.
No one could even tell whether it was just an empty suit of armor, or if someone was actually wearing it inside and controlling it… At least outside this battlefield, for those observers who had pulled back a distance, this was still a somewhat difficult fact to determine.
The only thing they could be certain of was that the Power this armor displayed was simply godlike, simply demonic.
Because in the battle just now, this armor had all but swept across the battlefield like dry rot through timber, casually waving its blade to hack the army brought by the grafted Monster Grek into scattered fragments, and ruthlessly trampling the enraged Grek himself—one careless stomp dropping him beneath the strata, and even when he clawed his way back up he was coughing blood nonstop.
He had clearly suffered grievous wounds.
