The boss had not taken the whole room yet.
The gray hair's group, along with a handful of other Awakeneds desperate enough to stay near that thing, were keeping it occupied around the throne, forcing blades, spells, arrows, and bodies into its space whenever it moved. That ugly balance was the only reason the room had not already turned into a butcher's floor. A short distance away, Neo and his group had their own problem.
The mounted Soul Beast came at them like two creatures welded into one hateful shape. The Night Walker beneath moved in violent bursts, claws scraping stone, long limbs carrying it over broken ground with nauseating speed.
Crouched over its back, the Vagabond used that motion perfectly, shield raised, spear snapping out whenever someone committed too early.
It was faster than the others they had fought below, stronger too, and much harder to pin because the lower half and the upper half kept threatening different angles.
Max met the first rush head-on.
