With sword in hand, a single thin figure barreled downward towards a legion of charging soldiers, imbued with momentum, order, and murderous will. A united front faced true berserking madness. An explosion that could rupture eardrums and plunge vision into eternal darkness gradually bloomed into existence, ravaging the battlefield with merciless power.
A massive indent was impressed onto the earth, and at its center was none other than the Purist himself—Tuo Bihan! Breathing as heavy and beastly as an abyssal dragon of hell's deepest depths, the old-yet-young man was crouched with both hands tightly holding the lump of savage iron. Beneath its blunt edge was a single soldier, eyes wide and hands pressed heavily against both sides, holding it back from crushing them despite the humanoid-shaped depression in the ground beneath them.
