After an arduous hour, Alex triumphantly vanquished the relentless mutants that had viciously attacked him. The hall contained an abundance of potent mana, offering Alex an opportunity to replenish his depleted reserves. However, the physical toll on his body remained irreparable.
Dragging his weary and battered frame to the side, Alex stood in awe of the masterpiece he had unintentionally crafted. The floor now lay strewn with twitching, mutilated body parts and a sea of blood from the mutants.
Inwardly, he whispered to himself, "Even Picasso himself would struggle to create a more hauntingly beautiful painting."
Yet, the relentless battle had taken its toll on Alex, inflicting unrelenting pain upon his body and reducing his once-powerful muscles to strained broken remnants. He knew all too well that he was in no condition to face Kain, acutely aware of his limitations.
