The cavern fed in chaos.
Dust, and debris diffused in the air, with the attacks launched by the monster. Golden veins of mana pulsing along the wall illuminated the dungeon. Some hunters scattered, barely managing to stay on their feet, a result of the devastating breath attack launched by the Wyrm. The ground was littered with cracks, embellished by molten streaks still glowing from the heat.
But amidst this chaos, stood one figure.
Buji.
In his right hand, firmly gripped the Phantom Fang Blade. He has decided to use this weapon against the monster.
He stood firm, almost confident, if not. He seemed not to be moving, unlike the others who still reeled from the shockwaves. His expression remained relaxed, despite the overwhelming aura of destruction radiating from the monster before him.
"Well, that was something," he said as he rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck lazily.
