Every move of Vlad's blades sent dismembered bodies flying away. The warriors of the Azarin Empire were like a relentless tide, and he split them open, his rage fueling him beyond his limits and allowing him to move forward no matter how many launched themselves at him.
The old man's eyes widened as he witnessed the level of bloodshed. He could not understand how a single man could perform such a massacre with nothing more than two blades. Just as terror was about to overwhelm his heart, a semblance of courage appeared when he noticed that several Mages in dark robes with staffs appeared by his side.
"Fire your spells; do not hold back!" The old man shouted, his eyes burning with coldness and mercilessness.
The Mages from the Azarin Empire were shocked by that command, knowing that their fireballs would also hit their own soldiers. But seeing the crazy light in the old man's eyes, none dared defy his words. After all, he spoke in the name of the Goddess.
