Arlon closed his eyes for a brief moment.
The sensation of battle still lingered in his body—the subtle strain of movement, the weight of his blade in his hand, the remnants of mana flowing through his veins.
He exhaled slowly, then opened his eyes.
No more hesitating. No more unnecessary thoughts.
The remaining humanoid monsters were still there, still moving, still fighting.
Or… should he even call them monsters?
That thought surfaced for a split second, but he crushed it before it could grow into something that would slow him down.
Names didn't matter. What they were didn't matter.
They were enemies.
They stood in his way.
And so, he killed them.
One by one, he cut them down, his blade cleaving through their bodies with practiced efficiency.
It was easier than he had expected—not physically, but mentally.
At first, he thought it would disturb him. That his mind would hesitate. That some part of him would hold back.
But it didn't.
