With a whoosh, akin to the howl of a hurricane, Alexander swings his mist-infused chain, sending the hundred-meter arena into a frenzied whirlwind.
It's a spectacle, as though an immense wheel rolls over a horde of ants, crushing countless ghost soldiers into pulp.
This single move directly results in the deaths of two to three thousand ghosts, leaving the entire battlefield shaken to its core.
This method of attack is unparalleled, a unique feat others can only dream of emulating. All Alexander must do is swing the meteor hammer in his grasp, taking care to avoid friendly fire.
It's a slaughter—brutal, unrelenting, a massacre of a magnitude that leaves mouths agape.
Astonishingly, Alexander alone is responsible for a staggering 20% of the enemy casualties across the battlefield.
"An aberration! He's an outright aberration! How do you fight against a battlefield meat grinder like Alexander?" In the rear, Yao seethes in exasperation.
