Cassias was fighting against a dozen zombie beasts, madly slaughtering them. Whenever he passed, a rotten body fell, piling like a small mountain behind him.
He clutched his sword, staring ahead coldly at the incoming zombie beasts in front of him, taking a few seconds to rest. As the horde arrived, he grasped his sword tighter and swung down.
Two or three zombie beasts died; one exploded when the other two got sliced accurately in the head and chest. He snorted, his face scrunched in displeasure as he wiped the blood splashing onto his cheek.
After a brief pause, the slaughter began again. His eyes occasionally flashed with golden irises. His wings fluttered in the sky, staying a few meters above the ground.
He was alone.
Zerra was situated a hundred meters from the battlefield, yet none of the zombie beasts came to her.
