Marcus stepped forward and fixed his gaze on the pack of Highland Jackals sprawled across the sunlit grass ahead. They looked lazy at first glance, ribs rising and falling in the warmth of the afternoon, but anyone who had ever leveled in this region knew better. Highland Jackals were shameless scavengers with a talent for mobbing their prey. Alone, they were manageable. In groups, they were a nightmare, swarming in a blur of snapping jaws and dirty yellow fur.
For most players, running into two dozen at once meant a frantic retreat and a repair bill waiting at the end of it.
For Marcus, it meant efficiency.
His defense stat had long since crossed into absurd territory. He was a tank in the purest sense of the word, built not merely to withstand punishment but to invite it. The more enemies that surrounded him, the better his skills functioned, the smoother the fight became. Where others saw danger, he saw neatly stacked experience points.
