The air split with each swing of his claws. Every strike tore through flesh and twisted bone like wet parchment, scattering chunks of malformed bodies into the churning dust.
His movements were fluid, almost too fluid for something so massive, every shift of weight carrying enough force to shatter the ground beneath him.
Aleron's tail swept sideways, the motion sending a crushing wave of force across the battlefield.
The impact pulverized a dozen tier twos who had been reckless enough to rush in from the flanks, their twisted limbs folding inward before they even hit the ground.
The very dirt rippled, molten veins of metal bleeding upward in answer to his call.
'Good,' Aleron thought, tightening his grip on the metal control ability. The more he fought, the faster the technique adapted.
The threads of metal bent to his will, responding to his thoughts without delay, wrapping around his forearms like living gauntlets.
A shadow fell over him.
