Time passed in the vast grassland, undisturbed by anyone except for Iwan.
Wherever he passed through, an inch of grass blades would fall by his sword.
If one could hear and feel what the grasses were going through, then they would already be crying their hearts out.
The grassland grasses were facing their first-ever apocalypse by the sword of Iwan.
It was the grasses' beheading day, or they could be said to be getting a fresh cut from their personal barber Iwan.
"Huff, Huff." Iwan still moved with the same power and speed, even though his breathing was rough to the point he couldn't feel his chest being heavier than the weights around his limbs.
The 10 kgs' on each arm and leg were finally burdening Iwan and his movements.
"I won't stop." Iwan shouted and moved his Widow Maker and slashed apart another grass blade, shortening it too by an inch.
As he moved to the other one beside it, he heard the old demon's shout.
