A silver ripple suddenly spread outward from his body, cutting across the battlefield and striking the eleven phantoms fighting his force. The moment the ripple touched them, their bodies were violently dragged toward him as if an invisible force had seized them.
Ragnar grinned.
They flew through the air helplessly, pulled directly into his reach.
He swung the club.
The first phantom burst apart like shattered glass.
The second followed an instant later.
Ragnar began swatting them one after another with brutal precision, each strike landing like a hammer blow. The sounds echoed across the asteroid as his club rose and fell in quick succession.
Eleven swings.
Eleven kills.
Crimson mist erupted from his body as the remains of the phantoms collapsed into drifting deathmist. The mist didn't linger long. It was pulled toward Ragnar and devoured as the energy was absorbed into him.
Then he turned his attention to the abominations rushing across the battlefield.
