BAAAAAAAA


    BAAAAAAAA


    He lunged forward, his spear a blur as he impaled one sheep straight through its chest, twisting his weapon before yanking it out. The next beast reared up, aiming to slam its hooves into him.


    His reflexes snapped—too fast, too sharp.


    He pivoted to the side, dodging the attack by a hair’s breadth, then retaliated with a ruthless upward slash. His spear severed the creature’s leg, sending it crashing down.


    Another two charged at him.


    He grinned.


    This was his battlefield.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    His fingers loosened, releasing an arrow.


    It didn’t fly straight.


    Instead, it curved, as if yanked mid-air by an invisible hand. The arrow twisted around one sheep’s thick fur before embedding itself perfectly into a joint—where its leg met its body. The creature collapsed instantly, legs no longer able to support its weight.


    Another arrow.


    It veered sideways at the last second, bypassing a sheep’s thick skull and piercing clean through its exposed eye.


    Again.


    And again.


    Every shot manipulated, redirected, altered just enough to always find its mark.


    He didn’t fire at specific targets—he fired into the flow of battle, his force doing the rest.


    only to stop as if it had crashed into a mountain.


    Oren barely flinched.


    He exhaled, planting his feet deeper into the ground. The energy he absorbed from the impact surged through him, and with a single upward slash, he redirected all that force into his sword.


    The sheep was launched into the air from the sheer impact, flipping wildly before crashing down, motionless.


    Another beast lunged—Oren twisted his sword downward, striking the ground. The dungeon floor shook, sending a ripple of force outward. The tremor disrupted the charging sheep’s balance, making it stumble just before his next swing cleaved through its throat.


    Every strike he landed counted.


    The battle raged on, the group tearing through the stampede with precision, force, and sheer grit. The dungeon echoed with the sounds of clashing weapons, cries of the beasts, and the rhythmic breathing of warriors locked in combat.


    watched