Dokai charged forward.
His over-three-meter body almost transformed into a grayish-black streak across the ice-covered corridor. The soul drill on his right hand spun at a terrifying speed, grinding the air into distorted vortexes. The grotesque crab pincer on his left hand opened up. The countless fangs inside collided with each other, clicking, as if just being clamped by it would result in one's soul being chewed apart.
Elith stood beside Morie, her dark red eyes contracting.
Her spider silk had proven one thing very clearly.
Material silk could not lock down Dokai's soul-form limbs.
If he truly charged in front of the door of room 2705, even just letting that drill touch the defensive structures around the door, the situation would certainly become extremely troublesome.
