In that moment, the cultists realized something far more terrible than death:
They were nothing.
Not even ants.
They weren't simply outmatched—they were irrelevant.
A few survivors dropped to their knees, unable to withstand the weight of his presence alone.
"Mercy!" one cried.
"Please! We surrender!" another screamed, his voice raw.
But Lin Mu's expression didn't change.
He wasn't here for revenge. He wasn't here to play the hero or to relish superiority.
He was here for answers.
And he would carve truth from stone if he had to.
While all this happened, the wolfkin was going through a flurry of emotions.
Elyon stood still—silent, stunned, and small.
He watched the twin swords dance.
The moment Ocean Raker joined Afternoon Pine, a strange pressure settled in Elyon's chest—not from the blades themselves, but from the man who commanded them.
