Jareth dove into the midst of charging bulls, their charge already broken by the ranged spells shot at them.
His glowing sword whipped left and right, slicing the bulls and sending heads flying. His body danced left and right, weaving through the chaos like a leaf in the storm.
Like an unstoppable berserk warrior, he pierced through their ranks. Decapitated bodies and charred bleedings decorated his trail.
Nothing could impede his path. Every slash spelled death. Despite all this, he still made sure to keep his speed at the pace of the top students, marking him among the elites—not an unexplainable freak.
His wildness was guided. This kept him at the forefront. Peeking behind, Jareth made sure to avoid stray spells and flying bodies.
Explosion after explosion rang out from behind. Dust and blood flew in the air.
