There was no dramatic, ground-shattering landing.
How could there be when Michael had only jumped from his second-floor apartment?
If it had been a skyscraper, perhaps such theatrics would have been justified.
A cracked ground would have signaled that Michael had put too much force into the landing—an overzealous use of strength or pure vanity.
But in a situation where a massacre was unfolding, who was there to impress?
Monsters?
The dying?
Corpses?
Michael didn't want to waste even a moment.
The instant his feet hit the ground, he summoned his weapon from the storage space. In a fluid motion, effortlessly decapitated three green-skinned creatures charging toward him.
The green figures weren't unfamiliar to Michael.
Hobgoblins and goblins, with the latter appearing in greater numbers.