Still leaving everything aside, every death was an increase in soul power and every stream of soul power was another piece of the mystery he was trying to solve.
By the time Sol finally paused near the center of what had once been the Zharun formation, the ground around him was a carpet of corpses. Hundreds of Zharun warriors … spearmen and elite fighters alike… lay broken and still.
The few who still lived were fleeing into the distance, too far and too scattered to be worth his personal pursuit.
Sol watched their dwindling figures for a brief moment, neon-crimson eyes calm and assessing. Chasing every last straggler himself would be a waste of time and energy.
There were still larger remnants of the Coalition, Zerith, and Marauder forces on the battlefield that required his attention.
