SPLICK! Six down.
The second beast attempted a desperate tail sweep… middle legs clamped into stone (Pattern Two). Sol stepped on the fulcrum, glided along its back, and smoothly pierced its brainstem.
SPLICK! Seven down.
The third and fourth beasts tried to sandwich him from left and right, their dripping jaws snapping inward in a cross-bite formation.
Sol didn't bother to dodge. He planted his back foot, raised his left arm, and caught the third beast's left mandible with his bare hand, using his raw physical strength to lock its head in place.
Almost immediately with his right hand, he spun the Dreadwing blade in a short, reverse-grip circle, driving the point straight through the fourth beast's thoracic gap.
SPLICK!
Eight down.
The massive, forty-five-foot carcasses collapsed into the mud, their hundreds of yellow legs twitching weakly in unison before going completely, utterly still.
