Blood soaks the mud in the ground as droplets of rain mix with the red fluid.
With a lunge, my blade runs through the snout of the Vol, it is pulled out roughly as the body goes limp.
Turning to my left I raise my arm and create an air explosion with two tendrils.
With the kinetic force, world energy, and my mana charging the atmosphere, creating what other mages call a rank three air blasts takes less than two seconds if the wind is blowing less time than that.
There have only been four Vol so far and they come out one by one, a stark contrast to what I experienced as a child.
The grey fur on the beasts covers skinny legs and stomachs, these things are starving.
Unlike their counterparts near the Terran divide, these only have one tail each, all thoughts about what catalyzed the genetic mutation drowned out by my hyper-vigilance.
