With the spear in hand, the human-shaped beast had a wider range of attack. A distant enemy got a spear handle, a nearby one received a slap or a swift kick, never requiring a second attack.
The scene became monotonously horrifying, much like a person leisurely swatting flies, or perhaps like a child idly playing with a ball. The bright, gleaming machetes were ignored as if they were nothing. With a wave of his hand or a lunge of his foot, someone would scream and fly outwards.
And these people seemed to throw themselves right into his path, perfectly aligning with his attacks. Regardless of their menacing gestures and snarls, once they faced him all their movements became one of two types.
One was to drop like a log, the other to fly horizontal before hitting the ground; the difference being some rolled once, some rolled several times.
