The forest clearing had become a graveyard of silver fur and broken bodies.
Ethan stood amid the remains of the Shadowfang Whelps, his sword resting loosely at his side, its edge still shimmering with the faint residue of severed shadow. The Sword of Infinity granted him strength one level above his current state, and the advantage it provided had transformed what might have been a dangerous encounter into a brief and decisive execution. The three whelps had died before any of them fully understood the nature of the threat they faced.
