In a final, chaotic rush, the remaining toads charged at him all at once, hoping to overwhelm him in a last-ditch effort. Cyrus's eyes narrowed, and with a burst of speed, he darted through them, dodging their lunges and swinging his blade in wide, deadly arcs. One by one, the toads fell, their screeches fading into gurgling croaks as their bodies collapsed into the muck.
Within moments, the battlefield was still. The once-formidable pack of Autumn Toads lay in heaps around him, their twisted bodies dissolving into the dark, oily ground. Cyrus stood in the center of the carnage, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with the exertion of the fight.
Despite the blood and muck coating the ground around him, he felt exhilarated. He had uncovered the secret of their strength and overcome it with his own. With a final glance at the fallen toads, he sheathed his aetheric sword, the glow of its energy fading as it disappeared from view.
