The assassins hidden in the shadows of nearby streets were equally stunned.
The massive light that had cleaved through Chitterea's army was no mere combat technique.
It was a statement of absolute power, a display of destructive capability that defied comprehension. Hundreds of soldiers had been instantaneously obliterated, their bodies reduced to nothing more than a gruesome memory.
Jolthar stood in the centre of the carnage like an apex predator.
His posture was relaxed yet coiled, a living weapon ready to strike at a moment's notice.
The surviving soldiers of Chitterea looked at him not as a man but as a monstrosity—unpredictable, devastating, and utterly merciless.
Dagur's expression contorted with a mixture of rage and anticipation.
Ozug, unable to contain his fury, roared and charged towards Jolthar.
"Bastard! Who the hell are you?"
But Jolthar was prepared.