They did not stop.
Not after the roar.
Not after the surge.
Not after being forced down once more.
The reddened members of the Moonshade family kept coming.
Again.
And again.
And again.
It was no longer a simple sequence of reckless attacks. It had become something closer to an endless tide, a relentless wave of bodies that rose, charged, fell, and rose again as if exhaustion had been removed from their very nature.
At first, when they had begun, their resistance had been crude. Their movements had been nothing but wild lunges, their strength barely enough to create even the smallest disturbance against GrandLord Dreath's overwhelming presence.
But now—
That had changed.
Dreath saw it clearly.
He felt it even more clearly.
"…You're still growing…"
His voice lowered, no longer amused, no longer dismissive, but sharp with attention.
One of them leaped again.
