The deeper Thoren went, the closer he drew to the core of the underground facility, the more frantic the members of the Slave Trade Guild became.
They came from the darkness one after another, some rushing from hidden rooms, others emerging from side corridors, a few abandoning their posts entirely to charge straight at him with weapons drawn.
Their attacks grew increasingly desperate, no longer holding anything back, no longer worried about injury.
They fought with frantic rage, because to them death had never been something to fear.
They believed themselves immortal, and that belief ran deep.
Even if their bodies were destroyed, they would return.
Even if their heads were severed, they would regenerate. Even if their organs were crushed, they would eventually recover.
That certainty was why they kept throwing themselves at Thoren one after another, convinced that no matter how strong he was, he could never truly kill them.
That belief shattered with terrifying speed.
