"... And that makes 6, they must start to realize what's going on at this point."
Cutting the supply of mana, Dax let go of the battleaxe which was still embedded in the elder's core as it dematerialized at the same time as he stood back up to look at the field of carnage and destruction which surrounded him. Once more he had fought and survived long enough to enter a new stage of warfare, but compared to the times he made rebels disappear from the shadows or when he advanced over earth scorched by nuclear fire, this level of destruction truly was something else, the visceral amount of blood and gore from his opponents combined with the destruction which was like countless natural disasters had happened all at once filled Dax with a truly ecstatic feeling, humans might call this feeling 'the joy of battle', but Dax and all other qiton's called it something else.
The joy of existence.
(Shit, again?... I would seem I've been more off centre than normal lately.)