Omai had once again descended into utter chaos. The ground around Adam was decimated and the air was thick with the stench of flesh and blood.
His robes were tattered, displaying his burned skin and the fresh injuries that he had received throughout the night.
He was but a lone Magus amidst a sea of corrupted magical beasts.
Yet, his abyss-like eyes burned with an unyielding fire.
Every breath he took was a ragged gasp as he continued to swing his fists at the incoming horde of beasts.
Sometimes he would strike with a punch, other times he would thrust with a palm. He continued to fight nonstop and massacred one beast after another, his mana reserves rapidly decreasing.
No matter how many beasts attacked him, he held his ground defiantly. Gradually, his eyes turned bloodshot, just like the beasts that he was fighting.
