The impact of the first collision was like a physical wall hitting them.
Soren didn't hold back and used his Ironclad Body to simply ram through the first three Drakelings, his spear a blur of silver and frost. He was a whirlwind of movement, pinning the faster ones to the ground with ice while sweeping his shaft to keep the horde from collapsing the circle.
Ryan was a shadow at his back. Every time a Drakeling lunged for Soren's blind spot, Ryan's silver-coated blade was there to intercept, his movements fueled by the desperate "pulse" he felt in the air.
But the sheer numbers were suffocating.
"Left!" Ryan shouted, his voice hoarse.
Soren didn't even look. He ducked, letting a jagged claw whistle over his head as he drove his spear into the throat of a monster charging Ryan. In exchange, Ryan stepped over Soren's crouching form, slicing the head off a Drakeling that had nearly sunk its teeth into Soren's shoulder.
