His mind raced, fracturing under the sheer impossibility of what he was seeing.
A Demon Hunter? No. No, that's a myth. A ghost story! They were eradicated centuries ago! Wiped out during the Great Purge! How is one standing right in front of me?
The terrifying reality clawed frantically at Rolf's sanity.
The predatory mana radiating from Edric wasn't just strong; it was a localized distortion of reality, an energy signature designed exclusively to slaughter.
Why is a monster like him here? Rolf's breath came in short, hyperventilating gasps. This ruins everything. The staging area, the master's grand plan... it's all completely meaningless against this. This can't happen.
Then the slow, deliberate sound of Edric's boot against the gravel snapped Rolf's fractured mind back into focus.
Edric was walking toward him. But he wasn't rushing. It was just a slow, inevitable march of execution.
