Suddenly, one of the elite team guy broke through—a fist crashing against Damian's shoulder. The impact staggered him slightly but fueled his next strike. The aura around him expanded, pushing back three students in a single motion. Even so, their numbers pressed hard, draining his focus.
The potion's effect had worn off, further taxing his already depleted stamina. He had taken down six or seven students, but many more still surrounded him.
With a metallic groan, the unexpected happened. A coordinated blow struck Damian's black-aura longsword in perfect synchronization—a combination of brute force and expertly placed strikes. The blade trembled, cracked, and then shattered in a burst of shards. He hadn't even managed to use the last spell etched on it yet.
