The forest had become a graveyard.
Raze moved through the carnage without a single drop of blood on him, his movements having achieved such precision that gore simply didn't touch his clothes. Each strike was calculated, each step positioned to avoid the spray. Months of training under Oziel had built control that transcended simple combat effectiveness into something approaching art.
Bephe, by contrast, was absolutely drenched. The prehistoric predator had long since stopped bothering to shake off the gore, acceptance that being covered in viscera was simply the natural state of things now.
Another pack emerged from the undergrowth, eight beasts radiating Expert Mid rank power. They were different from previous encounters, scaled hides suggesting reptilian ancestry, eyes gleaming with intelligence that marked them as ambush predators rather than simple brutes.
