Thanar's laughter echoed through the chaos as he charged onto the battlefield, his scythe swinging with primal ferocity. Each swing of the weapon unleashed an arc of pure darkness, cleaving through the monster's ranks with terrifying precision. The creatures, caught off guard by his raw power, were cut down in droves, their bodies falling in grotesque halves as the scythe moved effortlessly through their ranks.
The battlefield was a scene of carnage. The ground was littered with the remains of the fallen monsters, their blood mixing with the dirt. Thanar's attacks were relentless, his strikes powered not by technique but by sheer brute strength. The dark arcs he generated seemed to possess a life of their own, seeking out and annihilating any monster within their reach.
